


Reluctantly Rooming

by imagined_haven



Series: Reluctantly Rooming AU [1]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:22:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 29,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27452668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagined_haven/pseuds/imagined_haven
Summary: Stories from the lives of accidental and reluctant roommates Aelin Galathynius and Rowan Whitethorn.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn
Series: Reluctantly Rooming AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056200
Comments: 103
Kudos: 197





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a hopefully-short multipart work with different interconnected prompts from tumblr! If you have a snippet of dialogue or a scenario you would like me to include, I am taking more prompts for this either in comments or over in my ask box at imaginedhaven.tumblr.com! (You can totally ask me things anonymously, I have that set up for exactly this reason.)

> _For the prompt: “I really would’ve liked it if you told me your parents were coming to town.” / “I really would’ve liked it if you put underwear on before coming into the kitchen.”_

Aelin stretched her arms over her head with a yawn as she finally gave up on sleeping in. Her shift at the bar had run long, even more so than usual, and yet it seemed she still couldn’t sleep past ten in the morning no matter what she did. Perhaps it was time to invest in blackout curtains, after all.

Thankfully, even managing to sleep this late meant that she wouldn’t have to deal with her roommate as she started her day, so she slipped out of her bedroom and into the bathroom wearing nothing but an oversized shirt a former boyfriend had left behind when he left her. The guy had been an ass, but the shirt was the most comfortable thing she had ever slept in, and so she had long since decided it would be fine to keep.

As she glanced at the wreck that was her hair in the mirror and decided to leave it until she was more awake, she gave quiet thanks once more that Rowan would be off to his corporate job at wherever-it-was and not around to critique her messy hair and her messy life. They had been living together for about three months now, ever since her cousin Aedion had left his house behind for another deployment and Rowan had suddenly relocated from Doranelle. In theory it was meant to be a temporary arrangement, Aedion doing a favor for a friend since he wasn’t around to live in his own room, but if Rowan had actually made plans to move out yet he hadn’t informed Aelin.

Not that Aelin was doing much better in that regard. She had spent a year and a half now living in her cousin’s spare bedroom and working dead-end jobs. She felt she had a better excuse, though, since she was actually related to Aedion and was still trying to get her bearings after everything that had caused her to leave Rifthold.

Shaking her head in an attempt to dislodge that line of thinking, Aelin instead bent over the sink and hastily washed her face clean of the remnants of makeup that had lingered from the night before. She had crept back into the house sometime after three in the morning, and it had been late enough that her usual shower had been absolutely out of the question, so instead she had made do with sleepily swiping a washcloth over her face before dragging herself to bed. If her reflection was any indication, the effort had failed miserably.

Once she deemed her face to be clean enough for now, Aelin padded down the stairs with another yawn, intent on making coffee. After the late night she had had, she would absolutely need it if she had any hope of getting through her day.

Keeping her eyes on the floor in front of her to make sure she wouldn’t accidentally trip on something in her exhausted shuffle to the kitchen, she passed through the living room and successfully resisted the temptation to curl up on the couch for another nap. Instead, she finally reached the coffee machine that was sitting on the counter and began looking for wherever the hell Rowan had stored the coffee beans in his latest reorganization of the kitchen. Grumbling about men who were entirely too interested in organizing cabinets, she flung doors open at random until she saw the container resting on the very top shelf.

Damn Rowan and his freakishly tall self, he had hidden the coffee away where she could barely reach it. She was too exhausted still to find wherever he had tucked her stepstool away, though, so instead she sighed and reached for it. She let out a quiet noise of triumph as her fingertips brushed the container, edging it closer and closer to tipping off the shelf until she could grasp it more fully. Beans obtained, she set the container on the counter beside the coffee maker and froze when she heard a throat clearing behind her.

 _Fuck_. In her exhausted daze, she had forgotten that it was Saturday and that Rowan _wouldn’t_ be at his corporate job. Aelin took a deep breath to help steady her nerves and turned to meet his furious pine-green eyes.

She had _not_ been expecting to also see a pair of dark eyes glimmering with amusement, but when she did it took everything she had not to immediately flee the kitchen.

The dark eyes belonged to a woman with equally dark hair and pale skin, lips painted red and curled in a smirk that immediately set Aelin on edge. “Why, Rowan,” she purred, sultry voice curling around the same accent that Rowan spoke with, “I wasn’t aware you had… _company_.”

“I don’t,” Rowan replied, voice clipped with barely-restrained irritation. “Aunt Maeve, this is my roommate. Aelin.”

“Um. Hi,” she managed as she felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. They barely spoke, but she had overheard Rowan talking about his aunt before. The woman had raised him, as his own parents had died when he was young just as Aelin’s had. It appeared they were still close enough for her to come all the way from Doranelle to Orynth just to visit.

And Aelin had just met her wearing nothing but an oversized shirt, with her hair tangled in a wild halo around her face. There was no way for her to salvage this first impression, not now.

Suddenly her humiliation flared into anger. Why _should_ she make a good first impression? This wasn’t any relation of hers, and Rowan hadn’t even bothered to tell her he’d have a guest over. It went completely against the house rules he’d been so insistent on having, and she couldn’t possibly be held responsible for what had just happened.

Her anger only sparked further as Maeve laughed, the humor in her voice not reaching those dark eyes. “It’s a pleasure, I’m sure,” the woman replied.

Before either of them could say anything else, Rowan stood. “Aelin. A word?”

She nodded quietly and one of his hands closed around her upper arm as he pulled her into the living room. Once they got there, he turned to face her, eyebrows drawn together in anger and one hand carding through his platinum hair. “You couldn’t get dressed before leaving your room just _one morning_?” he hissed.

“I thought you wouldn’t _be_ here,” she replied hotly, struggling to keep her voice to a whisper as well. “Besides, if you were going to be like this about it I really would’ve liked it if you _told_ me the woman who raised you was coming to town!”

“Yeah, well, _I_ really would’ve liked it if you put underwear on before coming into the kitchen, and yet here. We. Are.” As he bit out the last words he grabbed her arm again, tugging her closer as he towered over her.

Aelin froze again, just as she had when he had alerted her to their presence. “How did you—?”

“You’re wearing a shirt and nothing else, Aelin. Did you really think it would cover everything when you were stretching your arms over your head?”

 _Fuck._ So not only had she made an absolute fool of herself, she had _exposed_ herself to a woman she hadn’t even met and to Rowan as well. And to think she had thought her morning couldn’t get any worse.

Finally, Rowan sighed. “Look, just… go upstairs and put some clothes on. _Real_ clothes. I’ll start the coffee for you and deal with my aunt. Deal?”

Aelin nodded and darted up the stairs, not stopping to try to hear how Rowan was going to try to explain this to the woman in their kitchen.

By the time she had dressed and tamed her golden waves, Maeve had left and Rowan was sitting on the living room couch, two mugs of coffee steaming on the table in front of him. She swiped the one that was clearly meant for her, choosing for once to ignore the fact that he had to have touched her favorite mug in order to prepare it for her and instead inhaling the scent of the coffee. It had already been sweetened judging by the smell, and she blinked at her roommate over the rim of her mug.

“What?” he asked.

“You put sugar in this,” she accused.

Rowan snorted in reply. “Of course I did. I learned in three days you take your coffee as sweet as you can make it.”

It was completely true, of course, but Aelin wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of saying as much out loud. Instead she took a small sip of her coffee, moaning softly at the taste. It was perfect, of course, and it was infuriating how he had picked up on such a small detail of her morning routine when they barely interacted.

After a moment of silence, Rowan continued. “My aunt won’t be coming back,” he revealed. “I may have yelled at her for showing up unannounced and uninvited before you woke up, and you showing up as you did only solidified my argument for why that was a terrible idea.”

Aelin laughed. “So I actually did you a favor?”

“Don’t press your luck,” he retorted, but she took satisfaction in the almost-concealed smile that she barely saw cross his face. “I’m still annoyed with you.”

“Oh, come on,” she grinned. “You learned how I like my coffee, I saved you from overbearing parental figures. Maybe we can even figure out how to be friends.”

“What did I _just_ say about pressing your luck?”

“Please, I press my luck every single day. I make a point of it, in fact. It usually works out.”

Aelin drained her coffee mug and set it back on the table before glancing over at Rowan. As she watched, he slowly shook his head. “You are absolutely unbelievable. You know that, right?”

Aelin laughed. “Of course I do. It’s all part of my charm.”

“I’m sure it is,” Rowan replied, obviously skeptical.

“What? It is! Two days ago you wouldn’t even talk to me, and look at us having coffee together like roommates who actually like each other.”

Rowan glanced at his own mug of coffee and smiled. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” she grinned. “Who knows, maybe we can actually learn to like each other. We’ll find the way together.”

Rowan sighed. “As long as it doesn’t involve you escalating from flashing my aunt to stripping for my coworkers.”

“Now _there’s_ a thought,” Aelin mused.

As Rowan’s eyes widened in fear, Aelin doubled over laughing. “Gods help me, you actually thought I would do it!”

Rowan slowly shook his head. “At this point? I wouldn’t put anything past you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:   
> “Are those slippers?” / “Is that you being mean? AGAIN?”  
> AND  
> “You don’t know how to change a tire?” / “Give it a rest, would you?”

Aelin was still marveling at the turn in her morning as she got dressed for work in the afternoon. She and Rowan had spent an hour or so finally getting to know each other a little like they probably should’ve when he first moved in, only stopping when he had to leave to go on a run with one of his coworkers. They still had quite a ways to go, but Aelin already felt more at ease than she had previously.

She still felt a twinge of embarrassment at how it had happened, but she had gotten herself into more awkward situations before and Rowan had seemed content to not bring it up further.

Aelin hummed along with the music playing on her phone as she wriggled into the dark pants that served as the bottom of her work outfit and then sat to braid her hair back. In her month and a half working behind the bar at her current job, she had learned in a single shift that leaving her hair down was absolutely not worth it; the golden waves that she was so proud of had an annoying tendency of getting in the way while shaking drinks, and choosing to tie them back instead left her hair much neater at the end of a long shift. Lately she had taken to braiding the long strands into a crown around her head, the style elegant enough to please her but practical enough to survive the night.

Smiling with satisfaction, Aelin pinned the last few strands in place and stood to leave. She took a few extra moments to glance in the mirror and make certain that her shirt was presentable enough for work before grabbing her keys and heading down the stairs.

She made it all the way to the driveway before her good mood evaporated.

“Fuck,” she whined as she stared at her car. It had been fine when she had gotten in, or she thought it had been. But now in the daylight the left rear tire was obviously flat, almost cartoonishly so. There was no way she would be getting in to work on time, not with her car out of commission.

If he had been home she would have asked Aedion for a ride, but he was absent and his car was garaged wherever it was he put it while away so that he could save on his insurance payments. That left trying to get in touch with her coworkers to see if they could pick her up.

Taking a deep breath and preparing to grovel, Aelin scrolled in her phone to Lysandra’s contact information and was about to press the call button when she heard a surprisingly welcome voice from the edge of the driveway.

While Rowan’s voice was a relief, his words certainly were not. “Are those… _slippers_?” he asked.

Aelin crossed her arms, not ready to deal with this kind of interaction when she was still trying to figure out how she was going to get to work. “Is that you being mean again?” she retorted, shuffling her feet. The motion only served to draw attention to her choice of footwear, however, and when she looked back up at him she was met with an expression she could only call amused exasperation. She sighed and decided to end this probable fight before it could begin, if only to preserve the remnants of her sanity after an already-stressful day. “I always wear slippers when I drive to work,” she admitted. “My work shoes are great when I’m actually on my feet, but I hate driving in them.”

“All right,” he allowed. “I can’t say I relate, but I suppose that makes more sense than anything else I was coming up with. Doesn’t explain why you’re staring at your phone like it’s your only lifeline instead of actually driving to work, though.”

At the reminder of exactly why she was stuck here and not at work, Aelin sighed and wordlessly gestured to her tire. He glanced down at it and then back at her, clearly confused, and began to laugh.

“Oh, what is it now?” she demanded, immediately on edge again.

He crouched beside the tire and braced his hands on his knees, inspecting it as he continued to chuckle. “You don’t know how to change a tire?”

Just as it had a few hours ago, Aelin felt heat flood her cheeks. “Give it a rest, would you? So what if I never learned, I didn’t exactly have anyone around to teach me.”

Aelin bit her lip to stop the words from coming out, though she had already revealed far too much. Even if it was true, and even though the theme of the day had been building some kind of camaraderie with her roommate, she firmly believed there was such a thing as oversharing and that had been it.

A small part of her brain noted that she felt more exposed now than she had been literally exposing her backside to him just that morning, but she carefully stifled that thought to be dealt with hopefully never. Instead, she blurted out, “And I’m not sure I have a spare anyway.”

Rowan gave her a skeptical glance. “Open your trunk.”

“What?” Aelin asked, stunned. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

Deciding to humor him, she did, and in less than five seconds he had opened a compartment and revealed exactly what he had been looking for, a spare tire as well as a few tools. “Oh.”

Rowan shook his head. “Most cars have the essentials in case this happens on the road. The replacement isn’t meant to be driven long-distance, it’ll only get you to the nearest repair shop. I’m assuming you don’t have time for that.”

Aelin nodded. “I’ve only got about an hour before I’m supposed to be at work.”

“All right. You have tomorrow off?”

Aelin checked the picture of the schedule she’d saved to her phone. “Yeah, tomorrow and Monday are my ‘weekend’,” she replied.

Rowan pulled the tools out of the compartment and straightened. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to put the replacement on now, because that tire’s flat enough that you’re risking damage to the rim if we let it sit and that gets expensive fast. I can drive you to work tonight, and tomorrow we can take it to someone to see if you can get away with patching the tire or if you need new ones.”

Aelin stared at him, surprised. “Wait, you’d drive me to work?”

“Would I say I’d do it if I wouldn’t?” he retorted.

Before today, she would’ve bristled at that comment and perhaps even snapped back at him. However, through their talks after his aunt had left she’d learned that he had an incredibly dry sense of humor bordering on outright sass. With that knowledge in mind, she bit back her immediate urge to fight back and instead simply said, “Thank you.”

Rowan’s head spun around to stare at her, and she shrugged, uncomfortable under the intense focus of his gaze. “What?” she asked. “You didn’t have to offer, but I appreciate that you did. Honestly, before you got here I was running down my list of coworkers, trying to decide who was most likely to pick up.”

“You may still want to see if one of them can bring you home,” he cautioned. “I’m not saying I won’t do it, but I’m not exactly used to staying up that late and I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep.”

Aelin laughed at the admission. “And here I thought you were the life of the party. Have you ever done something just because it was fun?”

“Says someone who is currently reaping the advantages of my lack of a social life,” he snorted. “I thought you were supposed to be grateful.”

“I can be grateful and still comment on your life choices.”

Rowan carefully set one of the tools next to the tire and got to work, pointedly ignoring her and leaving her with nothing to do but watch him.

Even before today she’d noticed in a distant kind of way that her roommate was unfairly attractive, for all that he didn’t seem to do himself any favors. That recognition was only affirmed as she watched the muscles of his shoulders and back while he worked to change her tire. He hadn’t even had the time to change out of his running clothes, and sweat lingered at the back of his neck, darkening the short strands of his hair.

She’d never bothered to ask if he’d naturally gone completely grey at a strangely young age or if he simply dyed his hair that color, but either way she could admit it suited him in a way she wasn’t sure would work on anyone else. Paired with piercing green eyes and angular features, what would have been a noteworthy feature on anyone else was a stunning combination on him.

It was really too bad that they barely tolerated each other. And now that they were roommates, she knew too much about him to be swayed by looks alone. All it took was one recollection of him reorganizing their living space and those thoughts retreated to the back of her mind where they belonged.

It was just in time, too, because she realized belatedly he was speaking to her. “—got lucky,” he was saying. “I’m no expert, but I think they should be able to just patch this and you won’t have to get new tires.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked, curious.

Wordlessly, he rotated her tire—which she noticed was now freed from her car—and pointed at a large nail driven right through the rubber.

“Oh.”

“Here, stuff this into your trunk while I get the spare on and then we’ll get you to work,” he said, rolling the tire in her direction. She rushed to comply, and by the time she had tucked it away as neatly as she could manage he had finished his part of the job as well. “All right, get what you need and we’ll go.”

“I already have what I need,” she replied.

He looked at her, gaze moving from her braided hair down to her slippered feet, and said, “Your work shoes?”

“At work,” she said.

“And you’re not bringing food when you’re working a full shift?”

“Rowan, I work in a _bar_. They have food there.”

Her statement granted her a withering look that promised a painful end to her admittedly-unhealthy usual diet. “Do you even have food in the house?”

“If you’re going to judge me, I’m not going to answer that,” she evaded.

“Fine. We don’t have time to fix that right now anyway,” he muttered. “Get in my car, and I’ll get you to work.”

They drove in silence the entire way to the bar, but it was somehow less uncomfortable than Aelin would’ve expected. Maybe there was something to be said for utterly humiliating yourself in front of your roommate, after all. She could only go up from here.

As they arrived, before she could slip out of his car she turned to face him. “Hey, thank you,” she said. “I mean it. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

He waved off her thanks with a single gesture. “I know you have my number. Just text me if you need me to pick you up as well.”

As it turned out, Lysandra was able to get her back home after her shift and she texted Rowan about a half an hour before her shift ended, receiving no reply. But as she crept into the house, she noticed a sight that made her freeze and then smile. Rowan was passed out on their couch fully clothed, phone prominently placed on the coffee table as though he’d fallen asleep waiting for her message.

Not willing to risk waking him, she quietly crept up the stairs to her room, but the image lingered for quite some time as she prepared for sleep herself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:  
> “The salad here is really good.” / “Do I look like a fucking rabbit?”  
> AND  
> “Why’d you hug him? You love him?”

Aelin grinned and sauntered over to her newest customer a few minutes into her shift. “Good evening,” she purred. “What brings you in tonight?”

Green eyes met hers, completely unamused at her antics. “Considering that you insisted I come in, I think you know very well why I’m here,” Rowan replied.

It was completely true, of course. The previous Sunday, Rowan had kept to his word and helped Aelin get her flat tire fixed. He had also immediately taken her to the nearest grocery store and carefully watched her select fruits and vegetables like a hawk eyeing its prey. Once they had gotten home he had immediately flown into a flurry of meal preparation, and soon Aelin’s entire half of the fridge was full of little glass containers of portioned snacks and meals while Aelin’s roommate was glaring from the counter.

She had mocked him for it endlessly, of course, but truth be told she was immensely grateful. And so she had insisted that he pick a night to come out to the bar, so she could get him a free meal and a drink in thanks. He had picked Friday, and now he was here in the place she spent so much of her week. When they had first started rooming together, and even just two weeks ago, it would’ve been strange and she probably would’ve swapped halves of the bar with Lysandra just to avoid him. Now, though, she felt a strange warmth at seeing him so clearly out of his depth for her sake.

“I’m kind of hoping you’ll trust me on the drink, but is there something in particular you want to eat?” she asked.

“You’re the one who works here,” he retorted. “Surely you have a recommendation, seeing how you chose to eat here most nights rather than just admit you can’t cook to save your own life.”

Where that jab would’ve started a real fight just a few weeks ago, now Aelin just gave him her sweetest smile. “The salad here is really good.”

Rowan lifted a single eyebrow. “Do I look like a rabbit to you?”

“Well, since you seem intent on turning _me_ into a rabbit I thought I would offer,” she said, finally bursting into laughter.

Before Rowan could say anything else, a lilting high tenor sounded behind her. “Is there a problem here, Laena?”

Aelin only laughed harder, nearly doubling over as Rowan’s eyes widened. “Oh, don’t be an ass, you know everything’s fine,” she wheezed.

Beside her, a man with dark curls offered a hand to Rowan, who warily shook it. “I’m Sam,” he explained, “bar manager and old college friend.”

Rowan nodded, gaze flicking back over to Aelin. _Laena?_ he mouthed.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “The nickname is short for Celaena. It was the name on my fake license when we met, and he’s never let me forget it. It helps here, sometimes, if someone’s being a little too pushy. Whoever it is walks out of here without my real name, so I let him get away with it.”

Sam chuckled. “I do what I can. But I’ve embarrassed you enough for now, I think.” And without another word he faded into the bustle of the room, where she knew he would be carefully overseeing the crowd.

“Sorry about that,” Aelin said to Rowan. “If I knew he was going to come over and be an ass, I’d have warned you.”

Rowan shook his head, but she could see the faint glimmer of a smile. “It’s good that you have someone looking out for you at work,” he replied.

She smiled back and got to work. Together, they decided on a burger she’d had before for his meal. “Do you trust me?” Aelin asked.

“As much as I feel like I’m going to regret this, go ahead,” he sighed.

Aelin grinned and gathered her ingredients, dropping a single cube of sugar into a glass and soaking it with a mix of bitters. “I’ve been thinking about what I’d serve you for a week,” she began. “I won’t lie, it was tempting to serve you straight amaro and nothing else just to watch your face. But all jokes about bitterness aside, I wasn’t going to actually be that mean.”

“I’m eternally grateful,” Rowan deadpanned.

“You should be,” she laughed, reaching for a muddler and crushing the cube down. “But none of the sweeter drinks seemed like you, either. If I had to guess, in your personal life you don’t mix drinks at all, you just drink your spirits straight.”

The guess earned her a nod. “Even that isn’t often, but when I do, you’re right.”

Aelin nodded as well, dropping a sphere of ice into the glass as well and then reaching for the bottle of rye she’d selected. “So I didn’t want to deviate too much from that and give you a glass that was basically full of sugar, but I wanted to take you just a little outside your comfort zone.” Deftly she added the alcohol to the glass and then began to stir. “That left me with a much shorter list. Spirit forward. Classic pairings. Something even a joyless buzzard like you can appreciate.”

The name had started as an insult, Aelin mused as she reached for an orange and deftly carved a strip of its peel away from the fruit. Now, though, it was… almost an endearment. If friends traded endearments, that was.

Rowan’s eyes widened as she reached for a match, expression turning wary. “What exactly are you doing?” he asked.

Aelin grinned. “Helping you live a little,” she said as she struck the match and held the peel to the flame.

The smell of caramelization and warm orange oil reached her nose soon enough, and she blew out the match and set it aside before gently twisting the peel over the top of the now-completed drink and rested it on the rim of the glass. With a smirk, she slid the glass across the bar and watched as her roommate looked it over. “What is this?”

“If I told you, you’d think I was making fun of you,” she laughed. “So we’ll call it a ‘Trust Me, Rowan’ instead.”

The remark earned her another roll of those pine-green eyes, but he obediently lifted the glass, swirling its contents gently and inhaling delicately. “I wouldn’t have thought scorching the orange peel would change its scent so much,” he remarked.

Aelin grinned. “And that’s why I’m behind the bar and you’re in front of it. Go on, try it.”

As she watched, he carefully lifted the glass to his lips and took a small sip. She bit her lip, doing her best to wait out his reaction as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Finally he let out a pleased hum, and she could no longer contain her smile. “All right,” he said. “If I admit that I like this, will you tell me what it’s called? Or did you just make it up?”

Aelin tugged on a stray strand of hair as she bit back a laugh. “I didn’t invent this, no,” she said. “It’s been around for a while.”

“And?”

She glanced at him again and finally lost the battle with her mirth, leaning heavily on the bar as she broke into a fit of giggles. “It’s called an old fashioned,” she wheezed as Rowan rolled his eyes and grumbled into his drink.

* * *

Rowan left about an hour after that, but Aelin was still laughing about it with Lysandra as they worked to wipe the bar clean after closing. Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around her from behind, and she laughed and turned, tossing her rag into Sam’s face. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble today?” she teased.

“Not quite enough yet,” he grinned. “So why’d you hug him? You love him or something?”

Aelin laughed as she remembered back to Rowan leaving the bar. He’d obviously intended to slip away without calling attention to his departure, but she had noticed him and chased him down to give him a giant hug and a smacking kiss on his cheek. He had growled and immediately gone to wipe his face off, tossing her a glare that once would’ve left her shaking in her boots. Now, though, she had simply laughed and told him it was revenge for him trying to sneak away. “No,” she finally said as she turned her attention back to Sam. “No, that’s my roommate. We’re trying out this new thing where we actually get along.”

“Oh, so _this_ is the roommate from hell we’ve been hearing so much about,” Lysandra chimed in. “You didn’t say he was hot.”

“I feel like that wasn’t relevant to what I was telling you,” Aelin pointed out. “Hot people can be jerks just as much as the rest of us.”

“She says as though the three of us aren’t hot,” Sam laughed.

“He’s got a point,” Lysandra agreed, green eyes bright with mirth as well. “But anyway, we’ve got a mess to clean up here. We can sort out Aelin’s future domestic bliss later.”

Aelin scowled as her two friends laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far,” she cautioned them.

“Ah, but if we don’t, who will?” asked Sam.

“You’re assholes and I hate you both,” Aelin said with no heat in her voice.

“Oh, come on, you love us,” Lysandra grinned. “Sam, what can you do about all three of us having the same day off sometime soon?”

“You know I don’t control the schedule,” he sighed, but his brown eyes were glimmering with amusement. “That said, we all have this coming Sunday off. Why, do you have a plan?”

“I’ve always got a plan,” she replied. “But in this case, I suppose I can extend my plans to include the two of you.”

“This is all well and good,” Aelin drawled, “but at least one of us would like to sleep at some point tonight.”

“You just want to get home to that _roommate_ of yours,” Lysandra retorted.

“Oh, would you—”

Aelin’s words cut off with a yelp. She had been turning to face Lysandra, but suddenly her ankle buckled and she hit the floor with a cry and the sound of something cracking.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:  
> "You broke what?!?" / "Don't worry, I'm okay."

Aelin grimaced as she contemplated the call button on her phone.

“I thought you were getting along now,” Lysandra said beside her with a yawn.

“We are,” she replied, “but that doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to this.”

“Do you need me to call him?”

“No, that’d be even worse.” Aelin sighed and hit the button, nerves ratcheting up as the call began to ring.

“ _I was wondering when you’d either come back or explain why you never came home,”_ Rowan said by way of greeting.

“Wow, rude,” Aelin laughed. “I didn’t realize I needed to explain myself to you.”

_“Aelin, you defy explanation at the best of times, but I doubt you’d willingly be awake at seven in the morning. What happened?”_

Aelin glanced over at Lysandra, who gave her an encouraging nod. “I, ah, was hoping you could give me a ride.”

A gusty sigh crackled over the line. _“Please tell me you didn’t wait outside the bar until just now because something happened to your car and you were afraid to wake me up.”_ In her mind’s eye she could see Rowan beginning to pace as he did when he was agitated, long fingers rubbing at his temples.

She laughed nervously. “I didn’t wait outside the bar, and nothing happened to my car.”

“ _Then why…?_ ” she could hear the confusion in his voice even as the question trailed off into expectant silence.

“Well, ah, I’m not exactly allowed to drive right now.” Aelin bit her lip, glancing over at Lysandra again for support.

Before she could continue to explain, he let out another sigh. _“What, exactly, did you do?_ ”

“Rude of you to assume it’s something I did. I mean, you’re right, but I still feel like it’s rude.”

A sudden flurry of sound on the other side of the line indicated that he had placed the call on speaker. “ _I’m getting my shoes on, I can be there in about ten minutes,_ ” he said.

“Um, I’m not at the bar.” Aelin winced, knowing he was unlikely to react well.

 _“Aelin,_ ” he said, voice dangerously low and smooth in a way that made her knees weak even though she was already seated. “ _Where, exactly, are you?_ ”

“I’m… kind of at Orynth Regional,” she admitted.

“ _The_ hospital?!” Rowan shouted, and Aelin winced and held the phone away from her ear for a few moments. When she finally brought it back he was still talking. “ _What. Happened._ ”

“Well, um, apparently I broke my ankle.”

Rowan’s response was immediate and too loud again. “ _You broke_ what?!”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine!” Aelin said, feeling more than a little defensive. “I just, the break is on the side I use to drive, and they’ve got me on painkillers so they won’t let me drive home _anyway_ , and Lysandra lives on this side of town and she’s already exhausted from staying up this long so I don’t want to inconvenience her even more.”

“ _I’m on my way,”_ he said, and she sighed in relief. “ _I’m guessing your car is still at the bar?_ ”

“Yeah. Sam said it’ll be fine for the next day or two, and we can arrange something between the four of us for getting it home later when everyone’s awake.”

The next few minutes were a brief exchange of the information Rowan would need in order to find her, and before long they were hanging up. “Guess you can get some sleep now,” Aelin said to Lysandra. “He’s only about fifteen minutes away.”

Lysandra responded with another yawn. “You don’t need me to stay until he gets here?”

Aelin shook her head. “I don’t think I can get into any more trouble than I already have in the next few minutes, you’re fine.”

“Okay, but promise you’ll call me if you need me?”

She promised, and then her friend was stumbling out of the room. Aelin relaxed back against the hospital bed and closed her own eyes, hoping to gather at least a little strength for when Rowan showed up.

If she woke up when Rowan came to pick her up, she didn’t remember it. Her next clear memory was being carried through the door of Aedion’s house and gently deposited on the couch, careful hands stuffing a few pillows underneath the boot locked around her right ankle. She struggled briefly to open her eyes, and when she finally did manage it he was looking at her, concern clear in the set of his brow and the tightness of his jaw.

“I’ll be fine,” she muttered, grimacing when the sentence sounded terribly slurred even to her own ears.

“You must be exhausted,” he replied. “Sleep for now. We’ll talk later.”

She barely registered the feeling of him covering her with a blanket before sleep returned to claim her.

* * *

When Aelin woke up several hours later, she was greeted by a painful throbbing in her ankle as well as the sight of a glass of water and the bottle of pain medication from their bathroom, with a note beside them in Rowan’s precise hand. _Let me know if you’re in enough pain to need the prescription filled when you wake up,_ he had written. _The pharmacy didn’t want to release a controlled substance without your permission._

While she was contemplating the level of pain in her ankle, Rowan’s head poked out from the entryway to the kitchen. “Now that you’re awake, are you going to tell me how you did this to yourself?” he asked as he walked toward her with a small plate in hand.

“It’s really not that exciting a story,” she replied. “I turned wrong while we were wiping down the bar.”

He set the plate next to her, and she glanced at it, blinking when she saw perfectly even thin slices of apple and at least two kinds of cheese with some crackers. “I don’t know how you usually handle being hurt, but I can’t manage anything more complex than this the first day when it’s me. And I don’t think you’re supposed to put weight on that for the next few days at least, even though it’s in a boot.”

She carefully picked up one of the apple slices. “These are impeccable knife skills,” she remarked. “I’m not sure if I should be impressed or afraid for my life.”

“I do know where you sleep,” he said, voice dry but eyes bright with mirth.

“And I’m sure you’ve promised yourself you’d stab me once for each thing I’ve left out of place,” she grinned.

“Twice if it was clothing,” Rowan agreed mildly. “Unfortunately, I lost count of the exact number over a month ago.”

“Hm, I guess that means you’ll just have to start over at _not_ stabbing me,” Aelin declared with a laugh before biting into the slice of apple with a happy little hum.

“I suppose you’re right.” Rowan carefully folded the blanket that she had dumped onto the floor at some point while she’d been sleeping, draping it over the back of the couch.

“I’m always right,” she replied before focusing her attention on the food he’d brought over to her.

Once she’d eaten, she moved to get up and at least carry the plate into the kitchen. However, she was met with a firm hand on her shoulder and a fierce glare as Rowan took the plate away from her. “You’re not supposed to be putting weight on that yet,” he reminded her sternly.

“It’s called a walking boot for a reason,” she protested, but he was already halfway to the sink.

“It’s called a walking boot because you can walk with it on _once your doctor clears you to do so_ ,” he retorted. “Your discharge paperwork says no weight on it today at all, and that if you feel up to it tomorrow you can try walking then as long as you use the crutches you came home with to bear some of your weight.”

Aelin blinked. “You read my discharge paperwork?”

“Only the care instructions,” he admitted. “I doubted you had, or that you’d remember even if you’d looked at them.”

“Oh.” And there it was, the same fluttering warmth she’d first felt when she’d come home to him having fallen asleep waiting for her. Had he always been this attentive to what she would need, and had she simply missed it because she kept misinterpreting the way he spoke? Or was he trying as hard as she was to change how they interacted? Honestly, she wasn’t sure which option she would prefer.

When she looked up again he was looking back at her, brows furrowed and frowning slightly, and belatedly she realized exactly how long they had spent in awkward silence. “I don’t remember if I read them or not,” she admitted, “so thank you.”

Relief shone clearly on his face then, only to be quickly masked by amusement. “I should’ve guessed,” he teased. “You’re terrible at taking care of yourself.”

“Oh, well if you’re going to mock me I’m going to leave,” Aelin replied, moving once more as though she was about to stand just to see how he would react.

As she had suspected, he immediately set a hand against her shoulder to keep her on the couch, green eyes bright with a combination of irritation and worry. “So help me, if I have to _tie you down_ to this couch I will,” he growled.

Aelin smirked. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she retorted, watching with glee as Rowan’s face did its very best to go pale and blush hotly at the same time.

“I hate you so much,” he muttered as he tucked her back into her makeshift bed.

“No, you don’t,” she teased.

Rowan sighed and turned on the television, clearly aiming to give her something to watch as a distraction. “No, I don’t,” he admitted as he found her small collection of classic films, turning to offer her a selection.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Aelin said without even glancing at the titles.

“Oh?”

“You can pick the movie if it means you’ll stay in here.”

Rowan shifted uncomfortably. “I wasn’t sure you would want me to.”

“Who else would I call if I need to get up and my obnoxious roommate won’t let me do anything alone?” she grinned. “Besides, I could use the company.”

As she watched, Rowan frowned thoughtfully. “I do need to try to get some work done, but I can set up in here instead of at my desk.”

“Please?”

Rowan left, but quickly returned with a small stack of paperwork and his laptop. As the movie began to play, she found instead her attention was more drawn to him getting situated in a nearby armchair and donning a pair of glasses she hadn’t known he possessed, muttering to himself as he became more absorbed in whatever it was he was doing.

This time when sleep rushed back in to claim her, it was because of the warmth and comfort she was surrounded by rather than the medications she’d been given.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:  
> "This bath is too damn hot." / "This is why we can't do cute things. You complain too much."

The next day, after Sam had assured her that she wouldn’t need to come into work for at least a week, Aelin hobbled up the stairs and into the bathroom with the help of the crutches she had been given. Rowan had watched warily from the bottom of the stairs, but she had stated in no uncertain terms that there were certain things she needed to be able to do for herself and he had let her go.

After going through her care instructions with Rowan, she had learned that she wasn’t supposed to take the boot off for at least the first week at all, which meant it had to be covered while she cleaned herself. That was accomplished easily enough with a trash bag and tape, but she wasn’t about to attempt to balance herself on crutches in a shower when there was a perfectly good bathtub available to her. The other option, simply waiting until she could put more weight on her leg before getting clean, was thoroughly unacceptable to her; she had spent quite long enough smelling like the bar.

The problem, she realized, was getting into the tub. She had managed to fill it easily, and she was still more than capable of undressing herself. But even with the crutches she realized she wouldn’t be able to lift herself over the lip of the tub without risking another fall and further injury. This left her only one option, and she hoped she could make it work because she desperately needed to get clean.

Sitting on the lid of the toilet, she pulled her phone out of the pocket of her discarded pants and began to type.

_Rowannnnnn._

As she waited, she saw three dots appear on her screen to indicate he was typing. The indicator disappeared a few seconds later, then reappeared. This pattern occurred twice more before she finally received a reply.

**_Given that I doubt you would text simply to pester me when I’m still in the house, I’m going to assume you need something._ **

Aelin scoffed and hurried to reply. _Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t pester you at any given time of day._

**_Either you need something or I’m going to have to assume that you are somehow managing to miss me despite us both existing in the same space._ **

Despite herself, she laughed at the response. _You remember how you told me to let you know if I did need something?_

**_Given that we had this conversation less than five minutes ago, I’d be hard pressed to forget._ **

_Who spells out 5 in a text?_

**_I do. Get to the point._ **

_Well, you see, I’d come up the stairs with the intention of making sure I didn’t smell like the bar for the rest of the week._

Aelin paused after sending that message and bit her lip, wondering how best to phrase the favor she needed to ask of him. As she watched and debated, he started and then thought better of several more responses before finally sending one.

**_Last I checked, you broke your ankle and not your hand or wrist. You can’t possibly need me to wash your hair for you._ **

_As if you’d do it if I asked. But no._

**_You need help getting in the bath I heard you run, don’t you?_ **

_If I said yes, would you actually help or are you just going to make fun of me?_

Another couple of aborted responses from him appeared and then disappeared, and she was about to text him again when he finally replied. **_You’re really lucky I’m used to you having no concept of boundaries. I’m on my way._**

Aelin barely had time to sigh in relief before she heard his quiet footsteps approaching on the stairs. He opened the door with an unimpressed look on his face. “I’d ask if you were decent, but I suspect the answer to that question is almost never ‘yes’,” he said drily.

“Rude,” she replied flippantly. “I’d say enjoy the view while you’re helping, but we both know you’re allergic to fun so I’m sure you won’t.”

“At least I’m somewhat organized,” he retorted. “Whereas you seem to have flung your clothes into every possible corner of the room.”

“Someone ought to see these undergarments. It’s just a pity it’s you, and the context leaves something to be desired.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Do you want my help or not?”

Aelin sighed and relented. “I really do. I hate smelling like the entire contents of the bar.”

Rowan nodded and began unbuttoning his shirt, and she lifted her own eyebrows as she watched, only to see him scowling in reply. “Could you not? I’d rather not get my clothes wet, is all.”

“That’s fine,” she replied innocently. “I’m just surprised that you choose to wear complicated clothes even on your day off.”

“At least one of us should look presentable, don’t you think?”

Before she could think of something sufficiently witty to say in response, he removed his shirt and she was soon openly staring. She had never seen him anything less than fully clothed, not even with his sleeves rolled up, and now she could see why. A full sleeve tattoo of intricately-inked script in language she couldn’t quite decipher covered the entirety of his left arm, from his shoulder down to his wrist, stopping just above where the sleeves of his shirts normally ended. “That’s incredible work,” she breathed.

Rowan only shrugged uncomfortably and lifted her into his arms.

“Seriously,” she continued. “It’s beautiful. What does it say?”

“It tells a story.”

“Will you tell it to me?”

“Not today.”

Before she could say anything else he was lowering her into the water, and she sighed in relief as he hissed. “This bath is too damn hot,” he muttered.

“See, this is why we can’t do cute things,” Aelin retorted. “You complain too much.”

“It can damage your skin,” he pointed out as he carefully positioned her right leg on the lip of the tub.

“I’ve done far worse to my skin, I assure you.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Will you need me to get back out, too? Or can I leave now?”

“That depends, if I voluntarily eat one of your salads after this with no complaining about eating rabbit food will you wash my hair?”

“No.”

Aelin sighed. “I need to find a better bribe for you, but you won’t eat sweets so I’m at a loss.”

“Your voluntarily eating a balanced diet will serve as thanks for me working from home this week,” he retorted.

Aelin blinked up at him, surprised. “You’re working from home?”

“You’re clearly incapable of taking care of yourself,” he pointed out, green eyes glimmering with amusement.

Aelin shrieked, feigning outrage, and ran a cupped hand through the bathwater to gather enough to splash him. When she dared to look at his face it was frozen in an expression of shock, water droplets forming at the ends of platinum locks and rolling down his face. She did her best to keep her amusement out of her expression, but it only lasted five seconds before she dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Gods, your _face!”_

Rowan only stood, motions graceful and fluid and deceptively calm, and walked toward the door. When he deigned to glance over his shoulder at her, his green eyes were glimmering and he was smirking. “I do hope you remember that I know where you sleep.”

As the door quietly closed behind him, Aelin realized she would spend the rest of her bath wondering if she would come to regret her actions or if it had been completely worth it to see such shock on Rowan’s face.

* * *

Aelin awoke to a touch on her shoulder and blearily looked in the direction it had come from to meet green eyes filled with concern. “—been an hour, you should really be getting out now,” he was saying.

“Oh. Um. I guess I fell asleep,” she admitted sheepishly.

“That much is obvious. You know if you needed help you could’ve asked, right?”

Aelin nodded. “I do. I don’t remember trying to get out, I think I fell asleep as soon as I finished cleaning up.”

“Well, let’s get you out of here, then,” he replied, hands already reaching out to help.

Between the two of them, they managed to get Aelin out of the water and onto unsteady feet on the tile floor of the bathroom, Rowan’s hands still holding onto her elbows to help her regain her balance. She attempted to take a step toward where she had left her towel and slipped, but before she could do more than gasp in surprise his arms slid around her, pulling her into his chest to keep her upright.

As her skin brushed against his, she couldn’t help but shiver with the realization that she was still completely bare and he had never put his shirt back on. It was just that she hadn’t had anything like this in quite some time, she told herself as the thrill of his touch ran through her. It wasn’t anything to do with Rowan specifically.

Rowan finally realized how close they were and took a step back, reaching behind himself and blindly groping for the towel she’d left on the counter. Finally, he gently shoved it at her and quietly left.

When Aelin saw her reflection in the mirror, her cheeks were still slightly flushed, eyes overly bright as they followed the movement of a droplet of water down her neck and over the curve of one of her breasts. Gods, what a sight she must’ve been. No wonder Rowan had fled.

Quickly, she dried herself off and collected her clothing before hobbling back into her bedroom. She took longer than usual carefully braiding her hair away from her face, telling herself it was to give her roommate a chance to hopefully move past his discomfort and not at all to calm her own nerves.

Hobbling down the stairs with her crutches took far longer than it had to go up the stairs, and Aelin took a moment about halfway through her journey to debate the merits of just sleeping on the couch for at least another week. Just until she could put some more weight on her foot.

While she was still paused halfway down the stairs, she heard and then saw Rowan approach. Before he could get too close, though, or ask her if she needed any help, she glared until he wordlessly raised his hands in surrender and waited at the bottom of the staircase.

Finally, she managed the rest of the stairs, breathing a sigh of relief as Rowan watched her carefully. “I didn’t realize how hard it would be with only one foot,” she admitted.

“I set up a cot for you in the office,” he said quietly. “I thought it might be easier for you if you don’t have to go up the stairs as often. If you tell me what you want I can bring some of your clothes down, too. Or I could just hand them to you as they come out of the laundry you haven’t done,” he grinned.

“Hey, I’ve had a valid reason for being behind,” she muttered.

“For three months?” He ducked into the office with a grin before she could stammer out a reply, emerging with his laptop. “I’ve set a makeshift desk up for myself in the kitchen, so you can have the room to yourself.”

Aelin nodded, but rather than move into the office and inspect her new room she turned toward the kitchen. Before she had gone to take her bath, she had baked a pan of brownies, knowing that she would need the rich chocolate to get through her week with any semblance of happiness. They would be cool enough by now for her to cut one out of the pan, and if Rowan was feeling generous enough to help her set up a makeshift bed then surely he wouldn’t complain about her having just one.

She reached the counter and pulled the pan toward her, already anticipating the taste of chocolate…

Only to find a neat square already cut and removed from the exact middle of the pan.

Gods dammit, she had _known_ she would pay for her antics when she’d splashed Rowan. But this was beyond revenge. No, this was _inhuman_. He probably hadn’t even _eaten_ it, just thrown it away or relocated it to somewhere else in the kitchen.

Torn between anger and disbelief, she screeched. “ _Rowan!_ ”

Her cry was only met with the sound of laughter and the sound of feet retreating up the stairs.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:   
> “You’re on level 176.” / “Can you judge me harder?”  
> AND  
> “You’ve been replaced.” / “All right, we’ll see how you feel when you need me to kill a spider in the shower.”

“You’re on… wow, level 176. How have you not gone insane yet?”

Aelin didn’t even turn to look at the speaker, too focused on the puzzle game she was playing on her phone. “Wow, Rowan, can you judge me harder? You know I’m so very into you judging me for the things I do to stay sane when I can’t even walk.”

“Damn, Aelin, you talk that way to every guy who walks through your door?” the voice laughed.

Finally setting her phone aside, she turned and shouted happily when she saw Sam standing there instead. “Gods, I’m sorry, I lost track of the time,” she said as she rushed—or hobbled, she supposed—to hug him.

“And you’ve gotten worse at telling voices apart,” he laughed. “I guess I should be flattered, though, if you really thought I sounded like Tall, Brooding, and Handsome.”

“You’re not even into men,” she protested.

“If anyone could persuade me, it’d be him. But that’s beside the point. You seriously forgot we moved Girls and Sam day over here so you wouldn’t have to get a ride?”

Aelin grimaced. “Uh, it’s been a long week?”

Sam snorted and shook his head. “Nice try. Some of us actually had to work this week.”

“Wow, rude.” Even as she was saying it Aelin tugged him to the couch. “You’re going to have to make that up to me, you know.”

“I know,” he grinned, holding up a small paper bag.

Aelin’s eyes widened and she snatched it from his grasp, tearing it open to reveal several bars of chocolate. “Gods, I love you.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat sounded behind them, and Aelin whirled around to find Rowan coming back from his afternoon run. “You do realize there are more rooms in this house than the living room for that, right? You’ve got options that won’t traumatize your roommate.”

Aelin blinked, and then began to laugh, clutching at the cushions of the couch to keep herself relatively upright. “Oh gods, you thought… you thought we…” She couldn’t even get all of the words out.

Sam decided to take pity on her, grinning over at Rowan. “That’s ancient history. Like, sophomore year of college ancient. We’re better off as friends.”

“ _Best_ friends,” Aelin added as she began to recover, holding up the chocolates as some sort of proof of their friendship. “You’ve been replaced, Rowan. You’ll just have to live with it.”

Rowan only shrugged. “All right,” he replied. “We’ll see how you feel about that when you need me to kill a spider in the shower.” Before she could say anything he was walking up the stairs and out of earshot.

When she turned to face Sam again, he was staring at her. “He’s been in your shower?”

“What? No, not like that,” she stammered. “The spider thing was _one time_.”

“I’m just saying, you never let me in your shower. You _like_ him.”

The door opened again, and Aelin breathed a sigh of relief as Lysandra saved her from having to answer. “Are we feeling wine or whiskey?” she asked. “I brought both.”

Aelin frowned. “I’m feeling like if I say yes to either a _hovering overprotective buzzard_ will come down the stairs and tell me it interacts with my pain medication,” she called pointedly in the direction of the stairs.

Her phone buzzed with a text alert almost immediately, and she read it with a laugh. “See?” she asked, holding the phone so they could read the screen:

**_Said overprotective buzzard would be absolutely correct and doing you a favor._ **

“Wow, who texts like that?” Lysandra asked.

“He does, apparently. And he can _come say it to my face_ if he has something to say to me!”

Sam laughed beside her. “You tell him, Aelin.”

But the man upstairs remained remarkably silent in response, and her phone didn’t alert her to any further messages, so instead Aelin hobbled over to the kitchen and brought what was left of her brownies out of their hiding place.

“Wow,” Lysandra said when she saw them. “You actually bothered to cut them?”

“It’s not like I had anything better to do,” she replied. It was true enough; she certainly hadn’t been doing much, mostly because Rowan would glare at her until she was resting again if he felt she was overexerting herself. Feeling a flare of irritation at the memory, she promptly snagged one of the squares for herself and bit into it with a happy little sigh.

“All right, so when are we going to talk about the fact that you let your hot roommate into your shower?” Sam pressed.

“Wait, you what?” Lysandra leaned in, eager for details.

Aelin whined, head dropping into her hands. “For the last time, it’s not like that,” she protested. Still, though, she couldn’t help but remember the way he’d helped her into the bath the other day, how his words had been so rough but his hands so gentle on her as he’d…

Aelin yanked her mind away from that line of thinking, hoping she wasn’t blushing but strongly suspecting she was based on the heat she could feel in her cheeks. “You’re assholes and I hate you both,” she grumbled as they both started laughing.

“Oh, Aelin, we love you too,” Lysandra grinned.

“Besides, I couldn’t think of him that way anyway. Do you want to know why I really cut the brownies? He _cut one out of the middle of the pan_. And I know he doesn’t eat sweets, so I don’t think he even _ate_ it. He’s a monster.” Aelin took the opportunity while she was venting to remind herself of all the reasons such thoughts were a terrible idea. Perhaps this time it would work.

At the very least, it was enough to convince her friends to drop the subject, and she would take what she could get in that regard.

* * *

Rowan didn’t emerge from his room until the others had left, and even then he was even quieter than usual as he took his now-customary seat in the armchair. That in itself was odd, but when she glanced over at him she found him looking back at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place.

“Take a picture; it’ll last longer,” she quipped, knowing the best way to get him to speak would be to try to get a rise out of him.

Sure enough, it worked. “You say that as though the very image of you isn’t seared into my retinas at this point.”

“I can’t tell if that’s rude or flattering.”

“Good.”

Aelin snorted. “Gods, are you one of those people who likes to think they’re all deep and mysterious?”

Rowan laughed in reply. “I am neither deep nor mysterious, trust me. You just haven’t asked.”

“All right,” she said. “Why are you staring at me then?”

“I wouldn’t call it staring, but I was just wondering if I’ll have to deal with any more exes you’re weirdly friendly with dropping by unexpectedly.”

“Oh.” This time, Aelin knew she was blushing. “No, Sam’s… Sam’s different. And we weren’t always friendly.”

“No?”

“Gods, no. We dated years ago, like he said. He was… a different person, then. He was going through a lot, and he didn’t really know how to handle it. We were over well before he broke up with me, I think.” Aelin smiled softly as she reminisced. “After that, I think it was… three years later? We were both working by then, and we happened to get hired by the same company. He tracked me down and told me everything. We both left Rifthold together eventually, and Lysandra came with us.”

Rowan shifted in his seat to look at her properly. “I didn’t know you weren’t always in Orynth. Aedion mentioned you were from here, but not that you’d had to move back home.”

Aelin’s smile turned sad. “You never asked.” After a moment, she realized that her words sounded too close to an accusation and rushed to continue. “I mean, I never asked anything about you either. I’m not trying to blame you or anything.”

“I’m certain I would deserve it if you did,” he replied.

“Hey, that’s enough being weirdly deep for one day.” Aelin paused for a moment, thinking about her next move. “What if I asked you one question about yourself, to make us even? Then we can go back to me watching my movie and you making fun of me like we usually do.”

Rowan shrugged, but looked somewhat wary. “Fine, I suppose.”

“Okay. I’m sure you’ve told me what you actually do for a living, or Aedion has, but I can never remember. So what is it?”

Her question was met with laughter, but his green eyes shone with relief. “That’s seriously what you want to know?”

“It’ll do for now.”

“Fine. I’m an editor. This whole time, and every time you’ve seen me working out here, I’ve been reading someone else’s book—or what will become their book, anyway—and tearing it apart so we can make it better.”

Aelin grinned. “Are you one of those mean editors? Like everyone’s least favorite high school English teacher, who makes everything bleed with red pen?”

“Spelling and grammar are usually taken care of for the most part before it gets to me. I just make notes in the margins about what parts of the story work and what parts don’t.”

“Mean notes?”

“Sometimes.”

Aelin finally smiled. “You know, I don’t know what I thought you _did_ do, but that definitely wasn’t it.”

“I live to surprise,” he replied in the driest tone she’d heard from him all afternoon.

“Fine, then surprise me by not making fun of my movie tonight.”

She was met with only silence, Rowan clearly not finding her challenge worthy of a response. But he didn’t make even one sarcastic comment as the movie began, so she took it as a win regardless.

About halfway through, she glanced over at him to find his eyes once more on her. This time, however, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she only smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Shut up, you don't know what it's like to have your body attack you every month" for Aelin on her period please?????

Two weeks after she had broken her ankle, and on the very first day she was supposed to go back into work, Aelin woke up with the distinctly unpleasant sensation of her lower back muscles attempting to crush her spine. With a vicious curse, she hauled herself up out of her makeshift bed and made for the kitchen. Her phone chimed from the desk Rowan had been using as an office before the incident, and she snagged it off of the charger, quickly sending a text off to Sam.

_Cancel the ride. I can’t do it today after all._

She didn’t bother to await a reply before making her way to the cabinets where she usually stored all of her treats. Her brownies had run out a week ago, but surely she still had something stashed away.

As she rummaged, she took a moment to count backwards in her head. Surely she hadn’t miscounted? This was far too soon for her usual monthly cycle, or so she had thought. After all, her last one had been just two weeks…

Two weeks before she had broken her ankle. _Fuck._ It was right on schedule and she was the fool who hadn’t counted right. And since she hadn’t counted right, she had done exactly _none_ of her usual self-care routine for the day before that mitigated the symptoms of this first awful day. Gods, she felt like such an idiot.

Gently, she let her head fall forward and into the cabinet door with a soft _thunk_. It served her right for forgetting such an important thing and messing up her very first day back at work. The best she could do now was try her best to catch up to it with painkillers and hope she would be better enough to try again tomorrow.

Her phone chimed on the counter with Sam’s reply.

**_I was wondering if you were sure. It’s awfully soon, aren’t you still on those heavy duty pain pills?_ **

Of course she wasn’t. They had run out four days ago, and she hadn’t given it a second thought before now since her ankle had been feeling so much better.

_No, I’m just an idiot who can’t count days and weeks._ A vague message, to be sure, but Aelin knew that Sam would know exactly what she was talking about. She had complained to him enough about it over the years, after all.

**_Damn, that sucks. I can stop by after my shift if you need anything?_ **

It was sweet of Sam, really, and a holdover from how they’d helped each other out while they were dating, but she knew it would be too little too late and she didn’t want to interfere with his own schedule. _I should be fine, really. Just gonna curl up and try to sleep it off. I should be better tomorrow, you know it’s always just this first day._

**_That’s true enough. Feel better xo_ **

Aelin smiled and set her phone aside, then winced as her more immediate problem made itself known once more. She finally opened the cabinet…

And was met with plates. Gods, she didn’t know Aedion had even _owned_ this many plates. Not only that, but this meant that Rowan had reorganized the kitchen _again_ and most likely thrown out her snacks. He’d probably even sniffed with disdain as he’d done so, the joyless buzzard.

Aelin whined quietly. Fuck, she just wanted _one_ thing to not be completely screwed up today. Apparently that was too much to ask, though.

Her supplies were kept in the upstairs bathroom next to her usual bedroom, and since she had stocked up the previous month she knew that at least _those_ wouldn’t be an issue. She just had to get up the stairs. It was slower going than usual, as she still had to wear the boot, but now that she could actually _walk_ as long as she had the boot on she managed okay. Several minutes of cleaning up later and she was ready to awkwardly clomp her way back _down_ the stairs, taking some of her stash with her so she wouldn’t have to make this trek again in the next day or two at least.

She paused in front of the television, going through her collection of movies and selecting an older musical Rowan was certain to judge her for before gathering up every blanket they’d left around the living room and forming a cocoon on the couch.

She’d just gotten some semblance of comfortable when the door opened, footsteps heading for the stairs and then pausing. “I thought you said you were going to try working today,” Rowan said, clearly confused. “Unless… is your ankle bothering you?”

“What? No.” Gods, she’d lost track of the time, and she hadn’t expected to deal with Rowan this soon.

“Did your ride fall through? If you’d called I could’ve—”

Her grip on her temper, already tenuous due to the situation at hand, frayed and broke. “Shut _up,_ ” she snapped, and a part of her reveled in Rowan’s stunned silence. “You don’t know what it’s like to have your body attack you every month.” She avoided Rowan’s eyes, not sure what she’d find in his expression and even less certain she _wanted_ to know.

She curled up a little bit tighter, though, when his footsteps quietly retreated through the front door once more.

Gods, not only had she messed up her _own_ day, but she’d probably ruined Rowan’s too. He hadn’t asked for her to snap at him, and in hindsight he hadn’t deserved it either. He’d been the perfect picture of a caring roommate, and she’d stomped all over that. It sucked, and not just because she’d actually been _trying_ to befriend him.

No, it was awful because it wasn’t until the door had quietly closed behind him that she realized the last thing she’d wanted was to be left alone.

She’d brought it on herself, though, so she didn’t reach for her phone again. There was no point in dragging anyone else into the utter mess that was her day, and the last thing she wanted was to send a pleading text to Rowan and have him ignore it. Instead, she burrowed deeper into her pile of blankets and tried to ignore the tears she could feel welling in her eyes.

She had mostly succeeded in banishing them and was drifting somewhere between waking and sleep when the door opened once more. She said nothing, hardly daring to hope he’d actually come back. No, most likely he’d forgotten something he needed and he’d be gone again in a few minutes.

Her self-loathing tirade stuttered to a halt when something warm was tucked behind the small of her back.

Stunned, she reached behind herself and found an electric heating pad, the kind she’d always thought about buying but never managed to remember until it was too late. When she turned her head to look at him he wasn’t looking at her, instead setting a cup of something on the table in front of her. It turned out to be a mocha from the café down the street upon further investigation, and suddenly those tears she had mostly managed to shove back down were welling up to the surface once again. “Rowan…?” Gods, her voice broke on his name, but she couldn’t even bring herself to be embarrassed about it.

“You should drink some of that,” he said quietly. “The caffeine will help, and I know how you feel about chocolate.”

Gods, who was this man and what had he done with her roommate? She was having a hard time believing he could be so… _soft_. She supposed it made sense, though; surely it was just an extension of all he’d done for her in that first week after breaking her ankle. She knew better than to call attention to it by asking; if she knew Rowan, that would just cause him to grumble something at her and retreat into his room for the remainder of the night, and that was the last thing she wanted. Instead, she quietly reached for the cup and sighed as she inhaled the scent of it.

He wasn’t done yet, though; no, he was reaching into one of those reusable grocery bags she’d never seen anyone else using. “I didn’t know if you preferred sweet or salty snacks,” he admitted as he pulled out a couple bars of chocolate and a bag of pretzel sticks.

“Gods, those pretzel sticks sound perfect right now,” she replied. “I… you didn’t have to do all this. How’d you even know what to do? Most men I’ve talked to panic at the very thought of it.”

The question earned her a tiny hint of a smile. “Contrary to popular belief, I _have_ lived with a woman before,” he said.

Aelin immediately fought down a surprisingly strong surge of jealousy at this unnamed other woman who’d had this amount of care from Rowan and presumably lost it somehow. “What happened? I can’t imagine she’d just let you go, if you did this for her.”

“She didn’t.” The words were clipped and short, and Rowan’s expression had shut down completely.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” The words rushed out of her, and she ached to reach out to him, to do _something_ to smooth that look away from his face. “Whatever it was, you don’t have to talk about it to your idiot of a roommate who can’t leave well enough alone.”

He finally looked at her, then, and there was a deep sorrow lingering in that green gaze but the smile he gave her was genuine enough. “Maybe I will, someday. But not today.”

“Please tell me I haven’t scared you off. I really, _really_ don’t want to be alone right now.” She could feel her face heating, but not even her own embarrassment was enough to contain the words. Not when he’d already done so much to help and she was finally beginning to relax.

He pulled a small container of medicine out of the bag and set it beside her drink. “Take this while I put the rest of these away, and I’ll be right back,” he offered.

She nodded, and as she reached for the pills he moved into the kitchen. She had just settled back against the heating pad once more when he returned, true to his word. He didn’t take his usual position in the armchair, though, much to her surprise. Instead, he sat beside her on the couch and didn’t even protest when she snuggled herself up under one of his arms.

As she drifted off, comforted by the warmth and the blankets and his loose embrace, she could’ve sworn she heard him humming along to the musical that still played.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompts:
> 
> _“What are you doing?” “Impromptu dance party.” “It’s three in the morning.”_
> 
> AND
> 
> _“You’re weird.” “Or maybe you’re just basic.”_
> 
> AND
> 
> _Person A is cooking breakfast and sets off the smoke alarm waking up Person B who was still asleep_

Aelin grinned as she quietly closed the door behind her and stepped into the living room. She had just finished her first shift at work without that awful boot that had been a part of her life for eight long weeks, and she couldn’t be happier. Yes, her ankle was aching slightly after a long night on her feet, but it was better than she had feared it would be.

Better still, she knew that she had replaced her stash of snacks just the day before, and Rowan wouldn’t have had time to relocate or get rid of them yet with how busy his work had been keeping him.

Heading for the kitchen, she thumbed open her phone and scrolled through her playlists, selecting one with a smile and pressing shuffle. Upbeat music filled the kitchen as she dug through the cabinets, foot tapping with the beat.

A few seconds later she grinned triumphantly and emerged from the cabinet, fingers clutched around one of the bars of chocolate she’d slipped into the groceries. She had just opened it and was about to take her first bite of sweet victory when she heard a rough voice behind her.

“What are you doing?” Gods, Rowan looked awful, dark circles under dull eyes and hair a complete disaster. She hadn’t heard him come down the stairs; perhaps he had fallen asleep at his desk now that she’d given his office back to him.

Regardless, her hips didn’t stop swaying along with the music as she turned to him and smiled. “I’m having an impromptu dance party, obviously.”

“At…” Rowan’s eyes narrowed as he checked the time. “Fuck, three in the morning?”

“I am celebrating my newfound freedom,” she replied seriously.

“You’re going to break your ankle again if you keep stressing it like this, and then where will you be?”

Aelin winked and slid closer to him, still moving to the beat. “I guess I’ll have my big, strong roommate helping me again,” she purred.

Rowan rolled his eyes as she rested her hands on his hips. “You are _so_ weird,” he muttered.

“Mmm, maybe,” Aelin allowed. “Or maybe you’re just basic.”

A single eyebrow lifted on Rowan’s face. “Basic?”

“Yeah, you know. Boring. You _have_ to be aware of the concept, unless you’re an even grumpier and older man than I thought.” It was quite possibly a dangerous thing to say to him, but it was late and she was riding the high of having survived a night without that damned boot. Hopefully he’d understand.

“There’s a difference between being boring and not dancing at three in the morning.”

“Says you,” she grinned. “I bet you don’t even dance when it’s _not_ three in the morning.”

“Of course not,” he replied. “I work when it’s not three in the morning.”

“Seems to me like you were working _at_ three in the morning,” she accused. “I know that’s normal for me, but it can’t be for you.”

“It depends on the work. I’m covering for someone else right now, so I’ve got more on my plate than normal.”

“How long have you been awake?” Aelin asked, suddenly curious.

Rowan frowned. “Long enough to hate everything about this.”

“So, what, twenty minutes?”

He snorted. Gods, he must have been exhausted for her to get an actual laugh out of him. “Try ‘since about this time yesterday’,” he admitted.

“What? No, Rowan, that’s _way_ too long for people who aren’t either in college or working weird shifts. Did you fall asleep at your desk? Because you look like you fell asleep at your desk.” Without even thinking about what she was doing, Aelin ran her fingers through the tangle of his hair to start taming it.

His fingers encircled her wrist, and she stopped and looked at him. “I didn’t fall asleep at my desk.”

Just then, the music playing from her phone switched from something that was merely suggestive to something that was outwardly dirty, and she broke away from him and fumbled with the device, hoping to stop it before he noticed exactly _what_ the lyrics were.

She was obviously unsuccessful, though, for he almost doubled over laughing. “I didn’t realize it was _that_ kind of dance party.”

Gods, she hoped he couldn’t see her blushing. “It wasn’t. The playlist was on shuffle.”

“Aelin, that means you had to have picked that playlist. You’ll have to try harder than that.”

Fuck, but she hated living with a man who analyzed word choice for a living. “I forgot that was on there. And I’m not having this argument with you right now.”

“So when _are_ we having this argument?” he grinned. “I want to be prepared.”

“When you’ve _slept_ , Rowan, for fuck’s sake.” With that she began physically herding him up the stairs. “Come on, _go_.”

When they reached the doorway to the room he had taken over from Aedion, she leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded against her chest. He moved toward the dresser and opened a drawer, glancing back at her. “Do you mind?”

“No, not at all, as long as you’re getting to sleep,” she replied.

He cleared his throat. “Aelin?”

“Yes?”

“Get _out_.”

“Oh!” Gods, she had completely misinterpreted what he was saying. “Oh, I’ll, um…”

She shifted away from the door, and before she could figure out what on earth to say to him he had closed the door—surprisingly gently—in her face.

“Um, good night, I guess,” she finally managed.

“Good _night_ , Aelin,” he called through the door.

Well, fuck. With that embarrassment behind her, she turned to her own room to hopefully settle down for the night and _not_ replay that conversation for hours on end.

* * *

Aelin woke up earlier than usual the next morning to a silent house.

The silence in itself wasn’t unusual; Rowan was a very quiet housemate even when he was home. A check of her calendar reminded her that it was Saturday, meaning he was likely either on one of his habitual runs through the neighborhood or holed up in his office pretending that working on weekends was a thing that normal people in his position did. Just in case it was the latter, she made sure to keep as quiet as she could while she slipped into a t-shirt dress and crept down the stairs.

The office was silent, the door opening to an empty room, which meant that either he was out running or he was somehow still asleep. A glance at the doorway showed his running shoes tucked exactly where he always left them.

Stunned, Aelin sat on the couch to collect herself. She couldn’t recall a time she’d actually woken up before Rowan; the opposition of their schedules usually meant that he was the early bird and she the night owl. However, this meant she had a chance to enact a plan she’d been idly thinking about for weeks now.

Rowan had done so much for her the past few weeks, picking up the slack in the household chores without once complaining about it and regularly cooking for her as well. She’d wanted to do something in return for so long, and now that her ankle was healed and he wasn’t awake to stop her an idea came to her.

She silently slid into the kitchen, carefully opening cabinet doors until she found a nonstick pan with a quiet noise of triumph. That went on the stovetop, and a small bowl and a whisk were next on her list. Soon those were sitting on the countertop beside the stove, and she was looking up video tutorials on cooking.

She had watched Rowan scramble eggs so many times now. How hard could it possibly be?

The pan went over heat with some oil in it, and then she pulled the eggs out of the refrigerator. He always made two for her, but should he get a third? Would he even want a third?

Aelin realized she was now staring at the carton and didn’t know how long she _had_ been staring at the carton. With a sigh, she shook her head. She’d barely begun and she was _already_ overthinking it. How typical. Two eggs it was.

She cracked them into the bowl, cheering silently when she managed to do it relatively neatly, and soon she had whisked them up into a unified frothy mass of yellow liquid. Perfect. Just like the video, and just like when Rowan did it.

Belatedly, she realized she would need a spatula on hand to stir the eggs, and searched through the drawers until she found one. Then it was time to add the eggs to the pan.

She stifled a yelp as the pan hissed angrily with the addition of the eggs, steam rising hot and fast—or, fuck, was that smoke? She poked at the eggs timidly with the spatula, revealing the already-blackened underside of them in a hissing release of—yes, that _was_ smoke. Fuck. She’d ruined it.

Time seemed to slow almost to a halt as the pan hissed and sizzled before her, pouring out amounts of dark grey smoke that really shouldn’t have been possible for such a small amount of—

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

The sound entered her awareness dimly at first, as fixated as she was on the pan in front of her. When it finally registered, though, she yelped and tossed the pan at the sink, hoping that would stop everything from getting even worse. It landed with a clatter, but even that couldn’t outdo the piercing shriek of the smoke detector. Fuck, it would wake Rowan up, she had to figure out how to stop it.

She dragged a chair over from their little dining nook and clambered on top of it, frantically waving underneath it to clear whatever little sensor had gotten overloaded. The air was slowly clearing, and she was just starting to hope that she might actually succeed in this futile venture until she heard the sound of running feet and a shout from the stairway. “ _Aelin!”_

Shit. She was in deep and unending shit, with no way to talk her way out of it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompts:
> 
> “I can’t believe you eat pineapple on pizza…what sort of monster are you?” 
> 
> AND
> 
> Rowan reading/editing smut

Aelin laughed nervously from her position under the smoke detector. “Um, I can explain?”

The beeping stopped as he reached the chair on which she was standing, and with steady hands on her hips he helped her down from her perch. “Explain later,” he said. “Gods, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She looked up and met green eyes bright with enough worry that she bit her lip in a fit of nerves. “I’m sorry,” she replied. “I just wanted to do something nice, and I’m pretty sure at this point we both know that I should never be trusted with cooking. I just thought…”

Her voice trailed off as she found herself hugged against his chest. “I’ll appreciate the thought once I’m more awake, probably,” he reassured her. “Just… wait, is the stove still on?”

“Um…” Aelin was struggling to remember at this point. “Probably? I just kind of took the pan and threw it in the sink.”

“Which explains the clattering noise. Okay.” He let go of her to turn the burner off and start cleaning out the pan, and for just a moment she felt a sense of loss before her brain caught up with her.

“Wait,” she called. “Shit, I can clean that.”

“Please just let me.” His voice sounded so strained, and she wasn’t sure if it was the situation in general or the way she must’ve horribly mangled his cookware.

“Is there anything I _can_ do?”

He only shook his head and scrubbed harder, and she quietly slipped away into the living room.

Gods, she had ruined everything. She had meant to do something nice for him, and instead she had woken him up in probably the worst way possible. Not to mention the fact that she had created more work for him and maybe even ruined one of their pans. Why had she thought this was a good idea, again?

She steadfastly ignored the traitorous voice in her head that suggested that she knew _exactly_ why she had tried to do this. It didn’t know what it was talking about.

Finally, she realized that she had to do something. After all, if she didn’t intervene he’d most likely go straight from scrubbing away her mistakes to properly cooking them… lunch, she realized with a glance at the clock. She may not be able to cook to save her life, but she could definitely make sure they had food without him cooking it.

She grinned. Her cooking skills were subpar at best, but her texting thumbs were in perfect working order.

Aelin crept back into the kitchen, watching for a moment as the muscles of Rowan’s back rippled under his shirt with the force of his scrubbing. Finally, though, she tore her gaze away and focused her eyes on the back of his head. “Hey, I was going to order pizza. You want any?”

Rowan set the pan down and turned to face her with a smirk. “Only if it has pineapple on it.”

Aelin was positive her jaw was about to hit the floor. “Pineapple?” she asked, voice sounding weak to her own ears.

“That’s not a problem, is it?” Gods, he was looking so impossibly smug. And it was about _pineapple_ , on all things. Was this a habit he’d developed simply to be ornery? She wouldn’t put it past him.

“Of course not,” she said, forcing as much saccharine sweetness as she could into her voice. “Why would it be a problem to cater to the whims of a _monster_ who thinks pineapple belongs on pizza?”

“It’s sweet, tart, and relatively nutritious for a pizza topping.” Of course that would be his most important criteria when evaluating toppings for pizza. Why wouldn’t it be?

Aelin sighed. “I can’t _believe_ you eat pineapple on pizza. What sort of monster _are_ you? I mean, I knew you were a grumpy old buzzard, but this?”

As she spoke, though, she pulled up a delivery app on her phone. She had to take a few deep breaths before she did it, but she selected pineapple as a topping. She’d just have to get two pizzas. It was fine. They’d have leftovers.

She hit the button to order the pizzas and smiled. Even though she was pretty sure Rowan was messing with her, it was still nice to do something for him in exchange for all of the things he’d been doing for her lately. Even if it meant ordering a pizza she was confident was never meant to exist.

* * *

Later that evening, Aelin kicked her feet up onto the arm of the couch and tugged a blanket around her shoulders. “I _still_ can’t believe you actually ate that awful pizza,” she muttered as she sorted through the movies she had available to watch.

Rowan hummed in response, clearly distracted, and she glanced over at him to find him still at work in the armchair. The glow of his laptop’s screen was reflected in his glasses… wait.

“Do you actually need glasses? I hardly ever see you with them.”

He frowned up at her for a moment before returning his focus to the screen. “They cut down on blue light. I don’t need them to see, but I’ll get a headache if I stare at this screen for too long without them.”

“Are you sure it’s not for vanity? Like, so you _look_ like an editor?”

“Is there a point to this, or can I get back to work?” He sounded frustrated, but judging by the way he was glaring at the screen and not at her there was a good chance his anger was reserved for the work he was editing.

“Go for it.” Well, if he was going to be focusing on his work instead of her movie, she wouldn’t ask for his opinion. She set up a period romance and stood to find snacks.

As she passed by him, she chanced a glance at his screen and then paused, transfixed by the sight before her. Was that…?

It _was_. Rowan was editing smut. In the same room as her, no less, with no visible embarrassment.

She couldn’t keep silent. “I’m surprised,” she said as Rowan startled in the chair before her. “You were reading this the whole time? With a straight face, no less.”

Rowan shrugged. “It’s part of the job. Usually it’s not mine, but I’m taking on a project for someone who’s on vacation right now.”

“Oh.” She supposed that made sense; even romance novels went though some amount of editing, and she supposed _someone_ had to do that work. There was a difference, though, between knowing that objectively someone had to edit this sort of book and watching Rowan pull up an annotation in his file to write _Breasts don’t work like this_ with angrily pressed keys.

As she read the passage that had irritated Rowan so, she laughed. “I mean, you’re right, but I’m surprised you just _knew_ what was wrong with it.”

Rowan lifted an eyebrow, eyes not leaving the screen. “And why would that be? I may not have them, but I can assure you I’ve been in physical relationships with people who _have_. Anyone who’s seen them for longer than about five seconds should know that.”

Aelin choked on air, wheezing and clutching at the top of the armchair. Of course, she had known distantly that the odds Rowan had been completely celibate were low. He’d never brought anyone home, though, so she’d been able to put any thoughts of her once-hated roommate having sex out of her mind. Now she was being confronted with the knowledge that he _had_ , and she didn’t know what to do with it.

Finally, she managed to speak. “I’m gonna make some tea. Do you want any?”

Again, he didn’t look up from his work. “That depends. Is operating the electric kettle within your skillset, or are you going to try to burn down the kitchen again?”

“Och! I don’t know why I offered,” she grumbled.

Before she could leave, though, Rowan reached up and grabbed her wrist, finally turning green eyes onto her. “I was teasing, and if you’re making tea and there’s extra I’ll happily accept it.”

As she watched, something softened in his expression, and she wordlessly nodded before fleeing to the relative safety of the kitchen before taking a deep breath. Yes, it was better in here. No roommate casually talking about sex. No stupidly attractive roommate lounging before her with those stupid glasses as he worked. Gods, she’d even forgotten to make fun of him for wearing glasses he didn’t strictly speaking need. She was a mess.

Yes, tea was the correct decision.

It was an easy enough process that even Aelin couldn’t mess it up, and soon boiling water was poured over two teabags in mugs. Shit, it hadn’t been nearly long enough; she wasn’t sure she was ready to face Rowan again.

But face him she would. He would be back to ignoring her soon enough, and she could survive a few moments of interaction before starting her movie. And so she took another deep breath before grabbing both mugs and walking back out into the living room.

Rowan smiled up at her as she delivered his. “Thank you.”

Gods, but that smile was too much after their earlier conversation. She managed a nod at him before practically fleeing back to her couch with her own mug of steaming tea and pressing play on her movie.

The familiar beats of one of her favorite movies began immediately, and she slowly relaxed into the pile of throw pillows and blankets she’d accumulated. As she’d predicted, Rowan turned his attention back to his work as soon as the movie began.

However, throughout the night she could’ve sworn on more than one occasion that his gaze strayed to her instead, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. For now, it would have to be one more thing to carefully not think about.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompts:
> 
> Character A waking Character B from a nightmare
> 
> AND
> 
> Aelin falling asleep in Rowan's room

As her movie ended, Aelin stood and stretched with a yawn. Rowan had long since relocated to his own room, but thanks to the odd hours she worked at the bar she knew she’d likely be up for at least another hour or so. Since their truce had begun, though, Aelin had taken to spending her last few waking hours in her own room, reading or doing something else that would generate less noise than the television would.

She quietly folded the blankets she had nestled into, knowing that leaving them where they were would only serve to drive Rowan up a wall. She’d already done quite enough of that, however unintentional the earlier kitchen fire had been. Once that was done, she tucked her shoes into the corner of the room beside his and then crept up the stairs.

She had just changed into her nightclothes when she heard a crashing sound from across the hall.

Aelin frowned. Rowan was asleep, and she had locked everything up before coming upstairs, and last she’d checked she hadn’t left anything in a precarious location.

Gods, had someone broken in?

She wouldn’t rest until she’d investigated. She had to know they would be safe. With that in mind, she grabbed the first object with decent heft that her hand landed on and carefully opened her door.

As she was passing Rowan’s room, she heard a clattering sound, as though a desk or dresser drawer had been upturned and its contents scattered. Gods, had they made it up the stairs already? Was Rowan—?

She had to know.

Knowing the element of surprise would be about the only thing she had going for her at this point in the night, Aelin flung the door open, letting it slam into the wall as she charged into the room and then paused with a frown when a seemingly-empty bedroom was all she saw. What on earth…?

Green eyes peered at her from across the bed, then narrowed. “Aelin Galathynius, what on _earth_ are you doing _in my room,_ brandishing… is that an umbrella?”

She looked down at what she had grabbed, flushing when she realized he was indeed correct. “I heard noises,” she said, voice sounding weak to her own ears. “I thought…”

“Never mind what you thought, just…” The top of Rowan’s head disappeared beneath the side of the bed, and a hand emerged to make a dismissive gesture.

Something gave Aelin pause, though, and she played his words back in her mind. His voice had been rough, rougher than she would’ve expected from having just woken up, and his eyes had been red and almost…

Haunted. His gaze had been haunted, and not even the surprise of seeing her had cleared the emotion entirely from his expression.

Instead of leaving, she vaulted herself over the bed to sit beside him. She had been right about one of the noises, at least; the top drawer of his nightstand lay beside her, its contents scattered except for a frame that rested in Rowan’s hand. Curious, she nestled herself against his side and peered closer.

Inside the well-worn frame was a picture of a woman. She had soft brown curls and warm honeyed eyes to match, and she was giving the photographer a soft, secretive smile as her arms wrapped around herself as if in an embrace. “Who is she?” Aelin asked quietly before she could think better of the words.

Rowan’s tone was harsh as he responded. “No one. Not anymore.”

She frowned, glancing up at him. Maybe she’d asked the wrong question. “Who was she, then?”

He sighed, setting the photograph aside before staring down at his hands. “Her name was Lyria. She was my wife.”

Aelin blinked, stunned. She’d had no idea he’d ever even been in a serious relationship, let alone _married_. “What happened?”

“She died,” he replied simply.

Before she could think better of it, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his shoulder. There were no words she could think of to say to such a thing, but for all that Rowan’s career involved selecting exactly the right words for any given situation, she had a feeling he would prefer her silence now.

As she’d suspected, Rowan finally sighed again and wrapped an arm around her to return her embrace. Finally, she heard him speaking, his voice soft and distant. “I was away on a business trip. She hadn’t wanted me to go, but I couldn’t turn it down, not that time. She didn’t tell me why she didn’t want me to go, either. I came back to our apartment to find the whole building had burned to the ground. A kitchen fire, they said. And she… She’d been planning to tell me she was pregnant.”

Realization dawned in Aelin’s mind. “That’s why you were so worked up this morning. When the fire alarm woke you up.”

From her position, she didn’t see him react, but she could feel him nod once. “I thought I was still asleep, at first. I wasn’t there when it happened, but in my dreams it all happens right in front of me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“And the noises I heard…”

“I knocked over the drawer,” Rowan admitted. “You probably figured that out already.”

“No, no, before that,” she replied with a frown. “Your drawer isn’t big enough to make the crashing sound I heard.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

Aelin lifted her head from his shoulder to glance at their surroundings. Nothing else was out of place except for the sheets on his bed, tangled around his foot. “You fell out of bed. Didn’t you?”

Rowan scowled. “You’ll never find out.”

“That’s a yes, then. Come on, let’s get you back into bed. I know you’ve got an early morning.” She stood, carefully detangling him from the sheets before tucking them back onto the bed.

“I presume you have a plan for making sure I actually _sleep_ ,” Rowan drawled.

“Of course I do. I’m going to sit on the corner of your bed and talk to you until you fall asleep out of self-defense. It’s worked every time I tried it in the living room.”

“Gods help us all.” The reply was teasing, though, some of the light finally returning to those green eyes, so she decided to allow it.

“Come on, get up.” True to her word, she sat on the corner of the bed, gaze fixed on him expectantly.

With a groan, Rowan finally stood before sliding back into the bed. His eyes narrowed as she deftly tucked the sheets in around him before sitting back down. “So that part wasn’t a joke, then.”

“Did I laugh when I was saying it?”

“That would’ve ruined the joke.”

“I laugh at all my own jokes. I’m hilarious. You should laugh at more of them than you do.” At Rowan’s skeptical look, she sighed. “Light on or light off?”

He frowned, clearly considering the options. “Light off,” he finally said. “I won’t sleep with it on. I’ve tried.”

Aelin smiled and stood, turning to face him as he suddenly coughed. “Something wrong?”

“Did I interrupt you with all this? Where’s the other half of your… outfit?”

She looked down at herself, confused, only to be met with the sight of the pink satin and creamy lace of her favorite nightgown. Oh. She hadn’t thought about what she’d been wearing when she barged in. Still, it was best to own it, and so she grinned up at him. “There is no other half.”

His frown deepened. “Do I dare ask what you’re wearing underneath it?”

She pretended to consider his question, one finger tapping her chin. “Ordinarily I’d say you have to buy me dinner first, but you _have_ been doing all the cooking for weeks, so I guess I can allow it. Your answer is nothing.”

She couldn’t quite catch exactly what he growled, but soon she found herself clutching soft plaid flannel and realized he had tossed a pair of pajama pants at her. “Either leave or put them on,” he said with a scowl.

On any other night, she would’ve protested that she could wear what she wanted. But he had revealed so much of himself to her tonight, and with one glance in his direction it was easy to see how much that had cost him. Just for tonight, it was only right that she comply.

Besides, the pants were _unfairly_ soft, and she couldn’t deny she would love the feeling of soft flannel on her legs.

Once she settled the waistband on her hips, she had to bend over and cuff the legs a few times so that she could actually walk. She was positive she looked absolutely ridiculous, but she’d been right about the softness of the material and therefore she decided she didn’t care as much as she probably should’ve.

Before he could make fun of what she was sure was a comical sight, she flipped the light switch and plunged the room into darkness before making her way back to the bed.

This time she did actually lie down, but she kept a respectable distance from him and stayed on top of the covers. _It’s only practical_ , she told herself. _Might as well get comfortable, if this is going to take a while_.

Rowan turned to face her, or at least she thought he did; it was just a little too dark to tell for certain. “What are you doing?”

“Getting comfortable. If you’re so sure it’s going to take you so long to go to sleep, I might as well be in a position that won’t hurt my back.”

If she could’ve seen his face, she was positive she would’ve been met with the image of him rolling his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

She grinned, even though she was sure he couldn’t see her either. “I’m going to need you to say that more often.”

He huffed out a soft laugh. “Don’t make this weirder than it already is.”

She paused to consider his words. Perhaps he was right, and this was a weird boundary they were blurring. Still, it felt right. “I don’t hear you telling me to leave.”

“I suppose you don’t.”

Before she could come up with something to ramble about until he fell asleep, she heard the sound of his breathing even out. While she’d been sure he would eventually fall asleep after all, she was certainly surprised he’d managed to do so this quickly. Perhaps it was for the best, though.

She shifted slightly to see if the movement would wake him or if she could safely leave, only for his hand to reach out toward her and gently clasp her own.

Message received. It seemed she was staying after all.

She found it was perhaps too easy to drift into a dreamless sleep beside him, their fingers carefully entwined even though the rest of their bodies stayed on their own sides of the bed. Just one more thing that was probably weird, but felt entirely too right.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompts:
> 
> Aelin stealing clothes from Rowan's laundry
> 
> Rowan being scandalized by Aelin's laundry
> 
> -AND-
> 
> "It's not mine, I swear!" / "How is it not yours?!"

Aelin slipped down the stairs in sock-clad feet, basket of dirty laundry perched on her hip as the clothes dryer beeped. In the two weeks that had passed since Rowan’s nightmare, she had taken it upon herself to take over laundry for the both of them. It was the least she could do, as she had been summarily banned from the kitchen altogether after that incident.

Rowan had fussed at her a little when she’d first done it, insisting that he could take care of himself, but he’d eventually caved. She wasn’t sure how much of it was due to the lingering awkwardness of that one night she’d inadvertently spent in his bed, but if that’s what it took then she supposed at least one good thing had come out of it.

She genuinely hadn’t intended to fall asleep, only to stay long enough to make sure _he_ had fallen asleep. But instead, she had awakened at the sound of his door quietly closing, wrapped around his pillow as though it were a lover. She had lingered there until she was positive he had left for the day before flying out of his bed and rushing to the safety of her own room.

Aelin sighed and shook her head before opening the door of the dryer, pulling all of the newly-dried clothing into a separate basket for clean clothes. Moving quickly so that she could fold the clothes while they were still warm and relatively free of wrinkles, she dumped the newly-washed clothes into the dryer and started it, then loaded her next load of laundry into the washing machine before moving away to the couch with the clean clothes.

She had soft music playing in the background, but even without that she would’ve found the repetitive motions soothing as she folded the shirts, smoothing the wrinkles out of each one before moving to the next. Before she knew it, she was left with two neat piles of clothing—one for herself, and one for Rowan. Perfect. She had time to sneak into the kitchen and see what she could swipe for a snack before the next round.

At least, it was perfect until she spilled the milk intended for her cookies down the front of her shirt instead.

“ _Shit_ ,” she hissed, both at the embarrassment and at the cold wet sensation. At least Rowan hadn’t been here to see it; he would’ve mocked her endlessly for it. Not to mention, it would’ve been far more awkward to simply strip her shirt off had her roommate been around to see her parading about topless through the house.

Since she was already doing laundry, it was a simple task to toss the soiled shirt into the next pile. However, she would also need to find something else to wear, _before_ Rowan got back in an hour.

A simple grey undershirt sat at the top of Rowan’s neatly-folded pile of laundry. She knew it would still be warm, and the material was impossibly soft. It was plain, with no designs, so it wouldn’t be immediately obvious that she had taken it from him. She could venture up to her room and grab one of her own shirts of course, but with such a tempting option right there…

What Rowan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

The shirt was exactly as soft as she’d known it would be, gently caressing her bare skin as she slid it over her head. It was perfect, really; she hadn’t intended to go put on a bra, and to know she wouldn’t need to in order to be comfortable was a relief. The hem fell to her mid-thigh, the garment almost comically large on her smaller frame, but that was okay. Shirts worn with leggings were supposed to be large enough and long enough to cover all the important places, anyway.

Carefully, she picked up the remainder of his pile of clothes and slipped into his room to set them at the foot of his bed alongside her previous rounds. Mission completed, she glanced at the pillows and bit her lip as her cheeks grew warm. What should have been an innocuous display of an immaculately-made bed was still bringing back memories of soft sheets and pine-scented pillows and fingers carefully entwined with her own.

She shook her head and left, and it took a surprising amount of effort not to slam the door behind her as she fled the scene.

Gods, whatever this was, she had it bad. She could practically hear Sam and Lysandra both laughing at her and telling her she needed to get laid. Maybe they were right; she hadn’t been with anyone since escaping Rifthold, and maybe this was just a symptom of how long it had been.

The front door opened before she could think about it any further, and she darted back down the stairs to gather her own laundry and greet her roommate.

His eyes immediately focused on her as she rounded the corner, before narrowing. “That’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

Damn. How on earth had he figured it out so quickly? “Why would you think that? Oversized shirts are normal to wear with leggings.”

Rowan smirked. “That might’ve worked if I hadn’t seen what you normally wear for ‘leggings as pants’ days.”

Shit. Well, it had been worth trying. “So familiar with my wardrobe,” she purred instead. “Someone might wonder how you know what clothing I have so… _intimately_.”

Damn, he didn’t even blush at the suggestion. “Aelin, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that we _live_ together and therefore I’m pretty sure I’ve seen most of what you consider to be casual loungewear.”

Fine. “Just for that, I’m keeping it!”

He called after her as she headed up the stairs with her own laundry. “Don’t think I don’t know you still haven’t given me back those pajama pants, either! What could you possibly be hoarding my clothes for? They don’t even fit you.”

Shit. Better to pretend she hadn’t heard that, since she hadn’t even begun to prepare an answer for why she hadn’t given those back yet. Instead, she quietly retreated into her room, putting her clothes away before grabbing a book and sprawling onto her bed.

She wasn’t sure exactly how much time passed, but before long there was a soft knocking at her door. “I’d ask if you’re decent, but I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.”

Aelin laughed and opened the door. “Never am. What’s up?”

A scrap of lace Aelin barely recognized as a crop top was dangling from the tips of Rowan’s fingers as though the material would burn him if any more of him came into contact with it. How had…? “That’s not mine, I swear,” she finally said.

“This ought to be good. Fine. How is it _not_ yours?”

“It’s Lysandra’s,” Aelin admitted. “She encouraged me to borrow it, the last time we went out.”

Rowan snorted out a laugh. “So it’s not just me you’re hoarding clothes from.”

Aelin snatched the top out of his loose grip. “We’re not talking about this. Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” The tips of his ears went pink as he pulled out underwear that was _definitely_ Aelin’s. “I’m presuming you didn’t steal these away from an unwitting friend.”

“Um. No.”

“They don’t have a back. Why do they not have a back?”

Aelin took the underwear back, carefully detangling the series of straps that made up the backside. “Rowan. You were married. To a woman.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with this.”

“It means I’m assuming you’ve seen women’s underwear before.”

“Nothing like that.”

“Hm, that’s a shame. They’re fun.” She smirked as she set them aside on her desk to put away later. “Maybe someday you’ll find someone willing to show you.”

“Are you assuming I’ve been celibate this whole time?”

Aelin turned to rearrange one of her drawers, hoping the motion hid the flush of her cheeks and the sudden trembling of her fingers. “I’m not assuming anything,” she lied. “Well, except that no one’s worn anything like that for _you_ , since you seem so confused.”

“Hm.”

Gods, could they talk about literally anything else? This wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have. “Now. Is there anything else from your laundry that may or may not actually be mine?”

He shook his head, and she breathed a small sigh of relief. “Not this time.”

“Okay, good. You’re welcome, then.”

He frowned. “Welcome? For what?”

Aelin grinned. “For the free entertainment.”

As she had known would happen, he grumbled something she couldn’t quite hear and left. Once the door closed behind him, she flopped back onto her bed and groaned into a pillow.

Gods, the sight of him delicately handling her underthings was one she had not at all been prepared for, and even the memory of it was still doing things to her. Not to mention his _voice_ ; it was as though his deep and lilting accent had been _made_ to talk about sex, and it had wrapped around her like his shirt had earlier.

_Are you assuming I’ve been celibate this whole time?_

Gods help her, she had been assuming exactly that, if only to preserve her own sanity. She had been carefully _not_ thinking about Rowan and sex in the same sentence for so long, and now that he had absolutely shattered that with a single question she wasn’t sure what to do.

There likely wasn’t much of anything she _could_ do. He’d made it so clear that he saw her as simply a roommate—one to which he had warmed up, if only begrudgingly, but barely a friend and _certainly_ not a…

What did she even hope this would be, anyway?

Aelin sighed and shook her head. It was pointless to think about, and nearly impossible to believe. She needed to get this out of her head before she did something stupid like crawl into his bed again and never leave.

Decision made, she reached for her phone and sent a text to Lysandra. _You were right._

Her friend’s reply was almost immediate. **_I’m always right. What am I right about now, exactly?_**

_Maybe it’s time for me to try to put myself out there again._

**_That’s my girl. Got any ideas, or are Sam and I supposed to set you up?_ **

Aelin snorted. _You’re impossible. I don’t know yet._

**_Well, figure it out. I’ve gotta know how I’m supporting you here._ **

_I don’t want to be all the way set up, but I guess I’m open to suggestions?_

**_I GOT U BB. <3_ **

Aelin smiled and tucked her phone away before swearing and snatching at it as her pretimed alarm went off. Laundry day waited for no roommate crisis, it seemed.

She supposed she should probably feel a bit lighter as she darted back down the stairs for the next round of laundry. Instead, though, she only felt nerves. Maybe she _had_ been out of the game too long after all, and this change would only do her good.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, a brief content notice: While not intended to be a main focus of the work, this chapter does contain discussion of sexual orientation and the revelation of a side character as a trans man (who is almost assuredly not trans in the original canon). While I definitely want to be as respectful as possible even though I’m only barely broaching the topic, I cannot claim to be trans myself, so if I’ve gotten something wrong in my admittedly-minimal talk about it please tell me!
> 
> Now for today's prompts!
> 
> Aelin getting stood up for a date
> 
> -AND-
> 
> Inappropriate exclamations during an innocent massage

Aelin crossed her legs, leaning forward with an interest she was struggling to feel. “So, Ilias, you said you’re here for work? What is it you do?”

Ilias grinned a little too sharply at her, amusement flashing in sea-green eyes. “I work in… private security. I’m afraid I can’t say more than that.”

“Right.” She began to fidget with the skewer that had held her drink’s cherry, searching for something else to say.

“You seem uncomfortable. Want to get out of here?”

Oh gods, was he really…? Yes, he was leaning in, and the way his eyes flitted down her torso and then back up meant he was saying _exactly_ what she thought he was saying.

“You know, if I’m being honest I don’t know if this is going to work,” she blurted out. “I mean, with you being based so far west of here, and traveling all over for your work… I’m not looking for forever on a first date, but maybe something a bit more stable than that.”

Ilias’ brow furrowed, then he nodded with an easy grin. “Fair enough. I definitely can’t promise stable.”

~*~*~

It had been a while since Aelin had been on a date with a woman, but she knew without a doubt that wasn’t the cause of the nerves settling in the pit of her stomach as golden eyes flashed at her from the barstool beside her. “Can I ask you a question that’s probably a bit rude?”

Her companion— _Manon_ , that was her name—merely raised an amused eyebrow.

Aelin blurted out the question that had been at the tip of her tongue for the past several minutes. “Do you find that people being both scared _and_ turned on is a normal reaction around you, or is it just me?”

Manon smirked, flicking her platinum braid over her shoulder. “It’s what I aim for,” she replied with a flash of sharp teeth.

Aelin laughed. “Okay, if I’m being honest we’re probably a terrible romantic match, but I _like_ you. This is probably weird, since we’re on what’s supposed to be a date, but I have this friend who I think would absolutely _love_ you…” Aelin trailed off, scrolling through the pictures on her phone.

Pointed nails dug into her shoulder as Manon peered at the screen. “I’m interested.”

Aelin blinked. “I haven’t told you anything about Elide.”

“I can see what I need to know about her from the way she’s holding herself in that picture. I’m willing to meet if she is.”

“I’ll introduce you on the condition that you teach me that trick you used on the guy you passed on your way in.”

“Deal.”

“You’re the _best_.”

“I know.”

~*~*~

Aelin sighed from the corner of the bar, shaking her head as Lysandra gave her a questioning stare. Ress was late. _Incredibly_ late, not just something she could attribute to traffic.

She swirled the whiskey in her glass, watching the amber liquid to stop herself from checking her phone for the fifth time in as many minutes. He would show up if and when he showed up, and she was determined to not be bothered by it even though it bothered her immensely.

Maybe she should take Lysandra up on her offer to set her up. It couldn’t be worse than her experience trying to find people on dating apps.

Finally, her phone chimed as the screen lit up with an unfamiliar number. **_Aelin, it’s Ress. I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. There’s been a huge disaster at work and apparently I’m the one who gets to clean it up._**

Aelin sighed. Well, at least he’d texted her.

~*~*~

“Three flops in as many weeks, Lysandra, I think I’m cursed.” Aelin sighed and nestled further into the couch. “I mean, I went on a _run_ today to try and calm down. Who goes on _runs_?”

“Rowan goes on runs,” her friend replied wickedly. “And I told you from the start that dating apps were hit or miss. This isn’t college anymore.”

“I didn’t have to worry about it in college,” she reminded her.

“That’s right, you were doing that thing with Sam where you thought you were a lesbian and Sam hadn’t fully come to the realization that he was a guy yet. You know, I still can’t believe you two wound up staying friends after how _that_ fell out.”

Aelin grimaced. Some days she couldn’t quite believe it, either; she had hardly been graceful about it in college. “It took a lot of distance and a lot of growing up,” she admitted. “And a lot of admitting that I said a _lot_ of things I didn’t mean.”

“Anyhow, if you’re ready to hear _my_ ideas, I could set you up with Archer.”

Aelin frowned, rubbing at a sudden cramp in her calf muscles. “Is that a person’s name, or a profession?”

“It’s his name. I can help you with that, if you want.” Lysandra leaned forward and took over, deftly massaging her leg.

“And how _exactly_ do you know this Archer?”

“I worked with him at that massage parlor in Rifthold.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Lysandra’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Aelin scowled. “No one from Rifthold.”

Green eyes softened in understanding. “He’s not like—”

“I don’t care. No.”

Thankfully, her friend dropped it there, instead focusing on working the knot out of her sore muscles. “I could also set you up with Rowan.”

Aelin groaned. “Oh gods, Lys. _No_.”

“What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? My ability to live with him, and therefore my _home_?” She turned her head just enough to glare at her friend, otherwise remaining practically boneless as she sprawled across the couch.

Lysandra laughed. “You think Aedion wouldn’t kick him out over you?”

“I don’t want it to come to that. So no, you’re not setting me up with him.”

“But you could go on runs together, and when you push yourself too hard he could probably carry you home.”

“You’re a terrible influence. Remind me why we’re friends again?”

“Because you’re a worse one,” her friend grinned. “Besides, I can do _this._ ”

A few deft strokes of Lysandra’s hands had the tension leaving her leg, and she moaned in relief. “ _Gods_ , that feels so good.”

“See? Everyone likes my hands, they’re one of my best features.”

“Don’t get all smug with me— _yes,_ right there!”

A loud noise near the doorway had them both freezing and looking over, only to discover that Rowan had gotten home early and looked absolutely mortified. “Oh, for _fuck’s_ sake, Aelin, you _have_ a room.”

Aelin blushed hotly as she played back the last several moments of their conversation. Exactly how much had he heard? Hopefully it was just the last part; as awkward as it was, it was easier to explain than her misplaced attraction to him. “As trite as this sounds, it’s not what it looks like.”

“So you _haven’t_ brought one of your recent dates home?” As odd as it was to think, she was relieved by the scowl on his face; the expression combined with his words indicated that he _hadn’t_ heard them talking about him.

“Gods, no. This is Lysandra. From the bar, remember?”

Bless her, Lysandra stood and waved with a grin. She was less thrilled with what her friend proceeded to say, though. “Your friend here pushed too far running and hurt her leg. I was just helping with that.”

Immediately Rowan’s gaze fixated on her legs, obviously searching for any obvious sign of injury. Aelin sighed. “I’m fine, buzzard. It was just a muscle cramp.”

He nodded, the motion sharp and jerky, and strode into the kitchen, fetching a glass of water with almost mechanical precision. “I guarantee you didn’t drink enough water before you ran. This should help prevent it from coming back.”

She scowled, but obediently sipped from the glass after he handed it to her. “I thought you weren’t supposed to right before running. Doesn’t that upset your stomach?”

“I’m talking about _yesterday_ , Aelin. You should be keeping well-hydrated on a daily basis if you’re going to take up running.”

“You just want me to drink more water,” she accused. “That sounds made up.”

“Just try it,” he replied. “You’ll thank me later.”

Her head jerked back toward the living area at the sound of a door closing, only to find that Lysandra had taken the opportunity to quietly let herself out. Her friend grinned and waved from the driveway when she saw her, clearly realizing she was caught and utterly unrepentant.

Aelin sighed and turned back to Rowan, who was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite identify. “You’re really okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I just needed something to help me not think for a while after these shit dates I’ve been on lately, and I’m told drinking alone is a sign of having a problem.”

The corner of his lips quirked up in the barest hint of a smile. “They must’ve been _really_ bad, to make you consider running as a viable option.”

Aelin shrugged. “I mean, I’ve had worse, but I’ve also had better? It was just one miss after another, you know?”

He glanced at her again, then turned toward the refrigerator. “I think I have everything we need to make pasta, if that’ll help you feel better.”

“You’d actually make me pasta?” She frowned; there had to be some kind of catch. There was no way he would simply allow that many carbs to be on his stovetop at the same time.

“I would,” he replied, heading toward the pantry and grabbing…

“Wait, that’s not pasta,” she blurted out. Gods, she _knew_ there was a catch.

He laughed, rolling up his sleeves before grabbing their eggs as well. “It’s not pasta _yet_.”

“You can’t seriously mean—” There was no way he was actually making pasta from scratch. There was a _reason_ it came in boxes, she was sure of it.

“I can and I do. Now either stop talking and watch or get out of my kitchen.”

Aelin chose to watch, and the play of muscles in his forearms as he made and kneaded his own pasta dough was almost enough to make her forget about why she’d thought it was a good idea to try dating again in the first place.

Almost.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompts:
> 
> Person A helping Person B change a lightbulb that Person B is too short to reach
> 
> -AND-
> 
> Aelin interrupting a date

Aelin hissed a curse at the overhead light in the kitchen as it flickered and then went out. Of course, it had to be the _one_ light in the house she was just too short to change. With any of the others, she could clamber her way up high enough to unscrew the lightbulb, but this particular fixture required more finesse than she was capable of giving on her tiptoes.

Ordinarily, this wouldn’t be a problem. Rowan was taller than her, after all, and she could probably persuade him to change it with minimal effort. However, he wasn’t home yet, despite it being several hours past the time he normally made it in, and she wasn’t sure why.

She was trying not to let it bother her; he wasn’t a big texter, after all, especially when he was at work. She was pretty sure if she checked her phone the last text between the two of them would be a picture she had sent him the previous week. In all likelihood he’d gotten wrapped up in a project and was simply finishing his work before coming home.

That said, she figured she could give him a little nudge out of the door if that was the case. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, sighing when she saw Lysandra had changed her contacts _again_. A few taps later and he was once again “Rowan” instead of “Hot Roommate”, and she was ready to talk.

_Hey, not to bug you or anything but are you planning on being home soonish? The light in the kitchen went out and last time I tried to change it myself I almost broke something._

His reply was immediate. **_I can be there in 15 minutes._**

She grinned. _So he CAN use numbers._

**_One through ten get written out. It’s okay to use numbers for anything larger. This isn’t up for debate._ **

Typical. Even when he was texting her, he was sassing her. She didn’t bother with a reply, instead heading to the living room to sit and wait for him to arrive.

When she saw headlights, she moved to the door, only to frown as she heard a feminine voice laughing. What on earth…?

She opened the door to find him holding his phone at arm’s length and grimacing as someone loudly berated him on speakerphone. “— _understand why you would just bail on me like that,_ ” the voice was saying. _“I thought we were having a perfectly nice conversation.”_

Gods, had she interrupted a date?

Rowan rolled his eyes. “I told you I had to leave. That should’ve been the end of it.”

Before she could wonder if the date had truly been awful or if this was simply how he spoke to all his dates, his green eyes flashed over in her direction, one word loud and clear all over his features.

_Help._

Well, she could certainly do that. She just hoped Rowan was willing to deal with the consequences.

She let out a deliberate squeal and launched herself at him, making sure to land with enough of an impact that he was forced to let out a harsh breath. “ _Ro!_ I’m so glad you’re home, sweetie, how was your day?”

He glanced at her, brows drawn in confusion and skepticism, but she was rewarded with an outraged huff from the phone. “ _You could’ve told me you’d found someone else. You move on quick, don’t you?”_

“What I do or don’t do is no longer any of your business, Remelle, and it hasn’t been for weeks. Coffee this afternoon was a courtesy because of your new project, and nothing more.”

_Ah_. Him speaking this way to an overbearing ex made a lot more sense than her worst initial fears had. That simply left the question of why he had gone out with a woman like this in the first place, when he could clearly do better.

The woman huffed and a soft beeping indicated that she had ended the call. As soon as he could tuck the phone away, he frowned at her. “’Ro’? That’s the best you could come up with?”

“I didn’t exactly have much warning,” she pointed out. “It could’ve been worse.”

“Never again.”

“For rescuing you? If this is how you thank me, I think we can agree on that.”

Despite himself, he smiled at her. “Never call me Ro again. I haven’t let anyone call me that since I was… seven, I think.”

She laughed. “You realize that means your contact in my phone is getting updated, right? I think I’ll name you Ro-Ro.”

He scowled. “You _wouldn’t_.”

“I absolutely would, and you know it.”

He sighed deeply. “You owe me.”

She opened the door and stepped back into the house, watching as he toed out of his shoes immediately upon crossing the threshold. “Do you really want to spend your favor on that? It seems kind of beneath what I actually owe you, but if that’s what you want…”

He frowned for a moment in thought, then turned to her. “No. I’ve got a better idea, and one you might even enjoy.”

Aelin grinned. “I’m all ears.”

~*~*~

“You _what?_ ” Lysandra cried as they started their shift at the bar the next day.

“Not so loud!” Aelin hissed, glancing around at the few patrons that were already here. Predictably, all of them were now staring. “See? You’ll attract attention neither of us need.”

“Who cares about attention? You’re going on a _fake date_ with your _real crush_!” Blessedly, despite the nonchalance of her words Lysandra did indeed lower her voice. “You _have_ to tell me everything.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” she insisted. “It’s a work party, not a date. And I’m only going for the open bar and to keep an annoying ex off his back.”

“You’re going with him, though, right? Like, you’re showing up together and you’re leaving together, and you’re expected to stay at least near enough to keep this mystery evil ex away.” Lysandra stepped away for a moment to shake a drink for a customer, but came back quickly. “Right?”

Aelin sighed. “I mean, yes, but we live together and the whole point is to keep this ex away. It’s not what you’re making it out to be.”

“Tell me more about this evil ex. What’s she like?”

“I don’t know, Lys. I only heard, like, three sentences out of her.” It had been more than enough to cement her opinion of this Remelle, though. Especially when Rowan had been remarkably unwilling to say anything further about her, no matter how she asked.

She was pretty sure she would still dislike the woman even she wasn’t struggling with an infatuation with Rowan. Everything about how she’d talked had just rubbed Aelin the wrong way, to the point that she had wanted to do more than just call Rowan obnoxious pet names to get her to back off.

Gods, she hoped there wasn’t a direct confrontation at this party. She was pretty sure Rowan wouldn’t approve if she got him fired.

A hand set itself on her shoulder, and she turned to see that Sam had come up between them. “There wouldn’t be a problem here, would there, ladies?”

“Um, yeah, there’s absolutely a problem.” Aelin sighed as Sam frowned at Lysandra. “Aelin’s going on a _date_. With Hot Roommate. Only it’s not a _real_ date, it’s a _fake date_ so he can avoid someone who thinks she can still convince him to get with _her_ instead of Aelin.”

“That sounds… needlessly complicated.”

Aelin scowled at both of her friends. “It’s really not that big a deal! Just like I was telling Lys. I go to this work party, I get free drinks, he gets her claws out of him, everyone wins.”

Sam laughed as he gathered used glasses. “And we’re just going to ignore the crush the size of all of Terrasen you’ve got on the guy? Because that seems like kind of a big deal.”

“I hate you both,” she declared.

Lysandra grinned. “Correction, you don’t hate me.”

“And why, pray tell, would that be?”

“Because I’m going to help make sure you are dressed to _kill_ for this not-a-date.”

“And you can’t hate me either,” Sam added. “I have it in writing and everything that you don’t hate me. I’d just have to dig through my texts.”

Aelin sighed. “Fine. On the condition that we _drop_ this and focus on the jobs we were hired for, I don’t hate either of you.”

Thankfully, it was a Friday night and so business picked up quickly, so Lysandra and Sam both didn’t have the time to continue ribbing her about her impulse decision to help Rowan out. Unfortunately, there was just enough down time between mixing drinks that she had time to think about it herself and wonder if maybe she’d made a terrible mistake.

There were still two weeks left before the party. She could just call Rowan on her break and say something had come up. Surely Sam would schedule her on that night if she asked him. Even as she thought it, though, she knew she was going to see this through.

Maybe it would wind up being a good thing. Maybe they’d go on this pretend date and she’d realize that she’d blown everything way out of proportion, and mistook friendship for interest. It would be something they could laugh about together a year from now, after they’d found other partners.

Maybe it would be _better_ than good. Maybe…

No. That was crazy.

And yet, as she wiped her station clean, she couldn’t quite wipe a small smile from her face. Two weeks to go. Only time would tell how this would play out.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompts:
> 
> Person A walking in on Person B changing
> 
> -AND-
> 
> Rowan walking in on Aelin doing her nails and talking to Lysandra

Aelin called Lysandra and set her phone to speaker mode as she carefully painted her nails in a shade of dark red. “Come on, pick up,” she muttered as the phone rang.

Finally, her friend picked up. “ _Don’t you have someone cuter than me to bother?”_

Aelin laughed despite herself. “There’s no one cuter than you, except maybe for me.”

“ _I’m flattered. Isn’t this the big day? What are you doing talking to me when you’ve got a smoking hot roommate to not-date?_ ”

It was. In about eight hours, she would be heading to some hotel’s ballroom on Rowan’s arm and staying near him to make sure his ex, Remelle, got the hint and stopped bothering him. Every time she dwelled on it for too long, she felt a fluttering sensation in her chest, and so she was trying to distract herself as much as possible.

Now, though, she needed the help of her closest friend. “It is, and I’m calling you for advice.”

“ _Surely you’ve done all of this before. Drinks, dancing, maybe coming back and waking up in your date’s bed…_ ”

“Lys!” she shouted, scandalized, before dropping her voice. “He’s _here_. What if he _hears_ you?”

“ _Then you can thank me for getting you laid despite your best efforts. Now, what do you need my help for?_ ”

Aelin sighed and glanced at the pile of clothing currently scattered over her bed. “I can’t figure out what I’m supposed to wear to this thing. I think I’ve gone through my whole closet twice.”

The sound of her friend’s laughter rang through the room. “ _Did he not tell you what kind of party this is? Or are you trying to decide because you want to look good for_ him _?”_

“Lysandra, you can’t just say things like that!” Aelin hissed, fearing her cheeks were turning as red as the polish on her nails. “I have you on speaker while I’m letting my nails dry.”

“ _You almost never bother with your nails. This must be_ really _important._ ”

It was, though Aelin was certainly not going to admit it. “Are you going to help or not?”

“ _Of course I’ll help. I just can’t believe you think you seriously need my help to look good for a guy._ ”

“It’s not even that,” she protested. “This is a big deal, okay, these are his coworkers and even though this isn’t real whatever impression I make will impact him going forward at work.”

“ _Okay, yeah, I see your point. So you want to look like you’re a reasonably well put-together adult, but you also want to look hot.”_

“I love that you know me well enough by now to know that that part isn’t a question.” Aelin smiled at her reflection in the mirror, only to jump out of her seat as her door opened without warning.

“Hey, I wanted to make sure you…” Rowan’s voice trailed off, and she blushed as she recalled that she’d stripped down to a bra and panties as she raided her closet.

“ _Hey, wait, what’s going on?_ ” Lysandra’s voice sounded confused, even through the tinniness of the speaker.

Aelin did her best not to actually look at Rowan, but she couldn’t help chancing a quick glance at his face. He was looking back at her as well, confusion clear in pine-green eyes, and she bit her lip before picking up the phone again. “Yeah, Lys, I’m gonna have to call you back, okay?” She hung up without waiting for an answer and then reached for the robe she’d thrown over her bed.

Rowan spoke again as she tied the robe around her waist. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything from me before we have to get ready.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Rowan’s eyes left her, finally seeing the utter wreck her bedroom had become. “What happened in here?”

“Picking an outfit happened here. I want to make sure I don’t embarrass you, is all.”

He nodded, glancing over the options she had cast aside on her bed before stepping into her closet. “Are you just looking for general advice, or do you actually want help?”

“You know what? Sure. I can’t promise I’ll pick it, but show me what you think would be best.” If nothing else, she’d get an idea of the formality of the event from him doing so.

He hummed an acknowledgment, and the sound of rustling fabric filled the air. Finally, he stepped back into her room with a hanger in his hand. “I like this one.”

She looked it over and slowly smiled. She’d forgotten about this option entirely. “I bought it years ago on a whim, but it was too old for me at the time. Maybe it’ll look better now.”

She already knew it would, and she couldn’t deny the small thrill she felt at the idea of wearing a dress that Rowan had specifically mentioned he liked. She wouldn’t say as much to him, but she knew her decision was made.

~*~*~

Several hours later, Aelin grinned at her reflection as she admired the dress Rowan had selected. It was black velvet, the neckline embroidered in gold and skimming her collarbones before flowing into long sleeves. What was more interesting, though, was the back.

It was cut almost dangerously low, low enough that she would be going without a bra for the evening, and the embroidery continued, forming the shape of a dragon along the edge of the fabric. From there, the fabric hugged her waist and hips before flaring out into a skirt that ended just above her knees.

As she had hoped, she had matured enough that she filled it out nicely now despite the richness of the fabric and the embroidery. She had paired it with a simple pair of black heels and no further accessories, allowing the dress to speak for itself, and she had simply pulled her hair into a half-up, half-down style with loose curls.

She was as ready as she could be, dressed to do battle with whoever dared question her presence at Rowan’s side. She just had to make sure he was ready as well.

She knocked once on his door before pushing it open, only to freeze in the entryway to his room.

Rowan was standing by his own closet, black dress pants open and slung low on his hips as he looked through a drawer and pulled out an undershirt. He tried to turn to her as he put it on, only to somehow get stuck in the fabric with a growl.

Aelin laughed, crossing the room before gently tugging the shirt over his head and smoothing his platinum locks with her fingers. “If I’d known dressing was going to be such a struggle for you, I’d have come by sooner,” she teased.

He scowled at her, but didn’t disagree as he turned to grab a dress shirt. “How long have you been waiting?”

“I haven’t been. I just finished getting ready myself.” Telling herself it was only because to save time, she deftly buttoned his shirt, stopping herself from reaching for his pants and hoping she wasn’t blushing as she stepped back.

If she was, he didn’t notice. “Good. That looks nice, by the way.”

“You’re not even looking.” It was true; he was leaning back into the closet, pulling out a tie and his jacket.

“I saw you when you walked in.” As always, his voice was matter-of-fact to the extent that she found it impossible to figure out if he meant anything by it. That was truly the most maddening part of having him for a roommate.

Aelin coaxed a smile onto her face regardless. “I see. You need anything else?”

“I need you to make sure you’ll be warm enough. We’ll take my car to get there, but it’ll still be a cold walk to the lobby.”

“I asked if _you_ needed anything,” she laughed. “Not for you to fuss at me.”

He shook his head, green eyes bright with amusement. “I’m almost ready. If you head on down, I’ll be right behind you.”

Aelin nodded and left before she embarrassed herself any further, slipping down the stairs as quietly as her heels would allow.

Gods, what was she thinking? This was a terrible idea. He was a successful professional, and she was playing at being an adult and pretending she deserved to be seen with him. She would just go up the stairs and tell him she couldn’t do it after all. Maybe if she was lucky she would actually twist her ankle on the way up, and they would both have an excuse to skip the party.

Before she could move, though, she heard footsteps on the stairs and soon he was joining her in the living room. As he moved, she couldn’t help but stare; his dark suit fit snugly against his trim torso, highlighting his muscled shoulders. She was used to seeing Rowan wear a shirt and tie, but seeing him in a suit was something else altogether.

Gods, she really wasn’t going to make it through the evening at all.

“Are you ready?” he asked, and from his expression she had to wonder if he could read her nerves. He stepped closer, and she bit her lip and nodded mutely.

He smiled. “Good. Let’s go.”

He grabbed their coats, handing hers over to her before slipping on his own. Soon they were out the door, and despite having grown up in Terrasen Aelin couldn’t quite hold back the gasp at the sudden cold of stepping outside. He glanced at her as if to say _I told you so_ before quietly opening the passenger door of his car for her.

She took a deep breath. Once she got into his car, there was no going back and she would have to see this night through to whatever end. Her nerves threatened to overtake her, but before she could back out a sudden calm settled over her and a single thought entered her mind.

_I am Aelin Galathynius, and I will not be afraid._

Aelin slid into the car and closed the door, and soon they were on their way.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because they kind of spoil the chapter, I'm breaking my convention and putting the prompts at the END notes of this update!

Aelin spent the drive to the party in a daze, still not quite able to actually believe she was going through with this plan. Before she knew it, they had arrived and hung their coats in a side room. Before they could head into the party, though, Rowan stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, and she turned her head to look at him questioningly.

“Last chance to go home and have a lazy night in,” he said quietly, pine-green eyes bright with concern.

Aelin knew there was only one answer, though. “I’m here for you, right? Because it’s important for you to be seen here.”

The smile he rewarded her with was worth all of the stress she’d put herself through the last several days. “Then let’s go.”

Aelin hardly remembered the people he introduced her to, far too focused on the hand he kept at the center of her back. Though he didn’t touch her skin, a frantic part of her mind kept wondering what would happen if his hand slid just half an inch up and his fingers brushed over her spine directly rather than through the thick velvet of her dress. Perhaps guessing that she was overwhelmed, soon enough he had pulled her to one side and gently pressed a glass of champagne into her hand. “That’s the hard part over. Are you still doing all right?”

She nodded. “I wouldn’t even think of that as the hard part. Do you see this woman I’m supposed to be keeping away?”

He quietly scanned the ballroom, only to shake his head. “Not yet. Trust me, though, you’ll know her when you see her.”

Aelin lifted a single eyebrow. “That bad?”

Rowan grimaced. “Agreeing to go out with her wasn’t exactly one of my best moments. But I’d _really_ rather not talk about this right now.”

“Fair enough. We _are_ at a party, after all. Dance with me?”

She grinned as a look of panic crossed his face. “I don’t dance.”

“Last I checked, your feet aren’t both left feet. How bad can you be at it?”

“I didn’t say I _can’t_ dance. I said I _don’t_ dance.”

Aelin sniffed. “That’s a pity. I bet I could get any man in this room to dance with me, and maybe even a few of the women. But no, the one I came here with won’t indulge me.”

“I didn’t say I was stopping you. Our deal is that you’re free to do whatever you want within reason.”

“Well, in that case.” Without a further word to her companion Aelin strolled toward the bar, where she saw one of the men he’d introduced her to earlier. Golden curls that were likely as unruly as her own were tied back at the nape of his neck, and onyx eyes glittered with amusement as they met hers. Perfect.

She approached him with a smile that she noticed he mirrored. “Fenrys, right? I hope I got it right, I’ve been introduced to so many people today.”

He laughed. “That’s me. Let me guess, your date is being a spoilsport and won’t dance with you?”

“I take it he’s normally like this, then.”

Fenrys nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him dance at one of these. Are you trying to make him jealous enough to goad him into it? Because if so, you’ve come to the right person.”

Aelin grinned. “I’m so glad we understand each other so well.”

With a laugh, Fenrys offered his hand to her and led her out onto the floor as the band began to play something lighthearted and fast-paced.

Fenrys was a good enough dancer, the light in his eyes matching the lightness of his steps. The laugh he had given as they began to dance proved to be one of many as he spun her around the floor, and she found his amusement to be contagious enough that when the song ended they were both sporting wide grins. He led her back to where she had left Rowan and then departed with a flamboyant bow and a wink toward her companion, and she couldn’t help laughing again. “He’s certainly a character, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Rowan agreed readily. “That was Fenrys. He edits primarily romance novels. You got lucky.”

“Luck?” she asked, affronted. “Never. I’ll have you know that was pure skills.”

Rowan shook his head, though she could tell he was fighting a smile. “If it’s skill, then do it again.”

“All right.” She had to pick a harder target this time, and one just so happened to be at the bar. Perfect.

Dark eyes studied her over the rim of his glass of whiskey as she approached, a perfect match to jet-black hair that fell to the man’s shoulders. His suit was similarly colored as well, and for a moment Aelin wondered if the man owned a single garment that _wasn’t_ black. That was hardly her place to wonder about, though, not when she was openly using him to prove a point.

His brow raised as she settled beside him. “You’re Whitethorn’s roommate, right? The one he brought along tonight.”

“I am. You’re… Lorcan, right? His supervisor.”

He gave her a short nod, and she would be affronted if she didn’t get the feeling that he was like this with everyone he met. “What are you doing over here?”

Sudden inspiration struck her. “Rowan thinks I can’t convince you to dance with me, and I’d love to see the look on his face when I prove him wrong.”

He glanced over at Rowan and she allowed her gaze to follow his, noting with glee the look of panic Rowan was clearly trying to hide. “He didn’t think you’d actually do it, did he?”

“He underestimated me. I’d like him to know he underestimated both of us.”

Lorcan scowled. “You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are. That being said, I _do_ enjoy riling Whitethorn. I’m in.”

Aelin grinned. “I never said I was subtle. I told him I get results. There’s a difference.”

Much to her surprise, Lorcan barked out a laugh. “Very well. One dance.”

As lighthearted and jovial as Fenrys’ dancing had been, Lorcan’s was calculated and precise, as though he were a warrior and the dance floor his battlefield. She couldn’t complain about his skills, though; he had clearly been taught well and was an adept partner. It was simply a mismatch in personality, she was sure.

He left her as soon as the song ended, but before she could go looking for Rowan she felt arms wrap around her. She didn’t have time to react before she heard his voice as he pulled her into his chest. “Gods above, Aelin, you certainly don’t hold back, do you?”

Aelin grinned, allowing herself a moment to revel in his closeness. “I like him. He agreed just because I said you thought he wouldn’t.”

He sighed. “That _does_ sound like Lorcan. Ornery to a fault.”

Aelin wrapped her arms around his waist briefly before turning to lead them both to a quiet corner of the room, Rowan visibly relaxing with each step. “So, have I proved my point, or will I have to do it again?”

Rowan laughed, the sound sending a thrill up her spine she hoped he couldn’t see. “You got Lorcan Salvaterre to dance with you. I don’t need any further convincing.”

Once they reached a corner of the room, Aelin turned to observe the festivities, only to pause when she saw they were being watched.

The woman currently staring—no, _glaring_ —at them was objectively beautiful, with long icy-blond hair woven into an intricate updo. Her eyes were a cool shade of cerulean, and they were growing cooler by the moment in frigid anger. She had accentuated her height and slender figure by donning a stunning silver dress, thin straps anchoring it at the shoulders before it clung to her every curve. A slit from the hem to her upper thigh allowed her some freedom of movement and allowed a glimpse at the strappy black heels she was wearing as well.

There was no way this was anyone other than the woman Rowan had been talking about. Still, she needed confirmation before she did anything stupid. “That’s her, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “That’s Remelle. We should probably avoid letting her make this confrontation public.”

“Oh, that’s easy enough. Not fun in the slightest, but easy.”

“That’s not reassuring in the least. What do you have in mind?”

Aelin smirked up at him. “Follow me into the hallway. Try to look like you can’t get enough of me.”

Rowan gave her a skeptical look, but followed readily enough when she took his hand and led him away from the main room with a wide grin. It was easy enough to wander down the hallway and find a shadowed alcove, and he didn’t even protest when she gently pressed him into the wall there.

She stepped close to him, and leaned forward so she could whisper into his ear without being seen or heard. “Did she follow us?”

He twined his fingers into her hair and gently pulled her head to one side, and she had to remind herself he was doing it so he could see. “Not that I can… wait. Yes, there she is.”

“Perfect.” Now came the part of the plan he was least likely to go along with, and she steeled her nerves before speaking again. “Now, kiss me so she sees.”

“What?”

Shit, she should’ve explained sooner, but she’d had no guarantee he would go along with it then either. “You want to give her a clear-cut signal to back off, right? If you kiss me, she’ll leave you be and come after me instead, and believe me when I say I can handle her.” She knew her smile was practically predatory at the thought of taking care of this particular problem for him, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to care.

“I can’t ask you to do this,” he protested, tilting her head so that their eyes met once more.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t, then. I volunteered.” Aelin ducked her head, allowing her eyes to close. She had done all she could; there was nothing further she could say at this point. Either he would follow through or he wouldn’t, and either way she’d just have to deal with the consequences.

His fingers brushed her jaw and she glanced up at him again, doing her best to keep the surprise off of her face. Was he actually going to…?

Their lips met and all thoughts fled from her mind.

She had done her best not to wonder what kissing Rowan would be like. Up until this moment, she had seen it as an exercise in frustration and futility, certain that it was a fantasy that would never come to pass. Now that she knew, though, she knew she’d never be able to forget the way they fit together like they were made to do exactly this, or the way he gently tilted her head for a better angle even as he bit her lip to make her gasp. Dizzily, she thought the dichotomy of his gentle touch and the edge of teeth exactly fit who he was as a person.

He allowed her a moment to breathe before trailing his lips along her jaw, and she grabbed at the lapels of his suit for stability. An affronted gasp behind her told her that her mission was a complete success, but she couldn’t be bothered to care, not when Rowan’s hand _finally_ crept to the bare skin of her back and began tracing random patterns over her spine.

Too soon, though, Rowan put a few inches of distance between them. “You were right. She’s gone.”

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from immediately replying, allowing her mind to catch up with the rest of her. Oh, right; the whole thing had been her idea to get rid of Remelle. “I’m always right,” she replied, hoping it came through with at least some of her usual confidence. “Now, do we need to stay here all night, or have you made your point?”

“It’d probably be best to stay at least a little longer, but we certainly don’t need to stay the whole night.” His hand was on the skin of her back again, guiding her back toward the ballroom, and it was a struggle to focus on his words.

When they finally registered, Aelin realized she didn’t know which option would be better. When they went home together, they would have to address what had just happened. Avoiding it would only make their living arrangements even more awkward than they already were. But as long as they were here, she could pretend a little longer that the night would never have to end and she could always be this lost in him.

Aelin sighed. Tempting as it was, she knew she would rather have whatever she could of the _real_ him than linger forever in her fantasy world. Better to figure this out sooner rather than later. Finally, she found the words to respond to him. “We’ll stay as long as you think it’s appropriate. But be careful, we wouldn’t want you staying up past your bedtime.”

He laughed, and she smiled in return, allowing herself to feel a moment of relief that she hadn’t completely ruined everything between them. Maybe she had even improved things further. There was only one way to know, though, and that wasn’t a conversation she was willing to have in public.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompts:
> 
> “Luck? Nope. Skills.” – “If it’s skill then do it again.” 
> 
> -AND- 
> 
> “That’s my ex-boyfriend/girlfriend.” – “Well, kiss me so they see.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompts:
> 
> "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to curl up and die."
> 
> “I’m not saying anything, every time I say anything you think I’m attacking you.” 
> 
> -AND-
> 
> “Liar, liar, pants on fire!” - “Seriously, you’re worse than a kid.”

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me.”

Aelin groaned and covered her face with her pillow. “Can we not?”

Unfortunately, Lysandra refused to relent. “You’re telling me you _kissed_ him two whole weeks ago at that party, and you haven’t spoken to him about it at _all_?”

“I haven’t had a chance,” she protested.

“You _live with him_.”

“He’s been keeping himself busy, I hardly even see him anymore.”

“Because you’ve been avoiding him.”

“I have _not_.”

Lysandra snorted and reached under the pillow to ruffle Aelin’s blonde waves. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

Aelin poked her head out of the bedding to glare at her friend. “You are worse than a child,” she hissed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to curl up and die right here.”

“Nope. You’re going to talk to him and put yourself out of my misery.”

Aelin frowned. “I thought it was ‘put me out of _my_ misery’. Not yours.”

Her confusion earned her a snort. “Not when you seem perfectly happy to wallow. I’m more miserable than you are right now, and all because you won’t just deal with it.”

“I’m not talking about this.” She rolled over, deliberately putting her back to Lysandra, and crossed her arms. “Besides, I’m _actually sick_ right now. There isn’t anything fun that could happen right now anyway.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“Lys, I’m not gonna do… whatever it is you seem to think I should do… when I’m more likely to get him sick than win him over. Why are _you_ here, anyway, I told you not to come.”

“Sam wanted to make sure you weren’t faking it to get laid,” Lysandra retorted easily.

“Bullshit.”

“Okay, fine. _I_ wanted to make sure you weren’t faking it to get laid.”

“Well, I’m not, so you can get out now. Before Sam loses you, too.”

Lysandra sighed. “You know…”

Aelin pointedly ignored her, reaching for a tissue and blowing her nose instead.

Her friend continued anyway. “You know we just want you to be happy, right? Especially after… well, you know. And it kills me to see you getting in your own way like this.”

Aelin whirled around to glare at her, only to press a hand to her head as the room spun. “I’ve already said we’re not talking about this. Is there anything _else_ you want to talk about before you leave?”

But Lysandra simply lifted her hands in surrender. “I’m not saying anything else. Every time I say anything you think I’m attacking you, just like you always do when you’re sick. But don’t think this lets you off the hook once you get better, got it?”

“If I say yes, will you _leave_?” Aelin demanded.

Lysandra left without another word, and Aelin sighed as she buried herself back under the covers. Her friend was right, of course; in addition to actually being sick, she _was_ wallowing just a little. But who wouldn’t be, in her situation?

She wasn’t sure where her resolve had gone. She’d come home from the party with Rowan, determined to say something once they were home. She’d figured that way he could avoid the possible embarrassment of one of his coworkers hearing and figuring out that they hadn’t actually been there as a dating couple. Little had she known it would cause her to miss her chance entirely.

They had arrived home safely, of course, and Aelin had taken a breath in order to speak as Rowan toed off his shoes, only to realize she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to say. He’d taken advantage of her silence, though, and turned to speak himself. _Thank you for that,_ he’d said quietly. _I’m sure it wasn’t the most comfortable thing you’ve ever done._

_It’s fine,_ she had rushed to assure him. Honestly, how had he not seen just how much she had thrived on their evening together? _I enjoyed it, even though you were your usual introverted self._

_Is that so?_ he’d teased.

_It is. You were hovering like the buzzard you are until I said we could leave._ It had been true, every word, but gods, that hadn’t been the time. She still wasn’t sure why she’d so automatically fallen into riling him instead of confessing just how much the evening had meant.

He had laughed, but before she could tell him anything else he had already climbed the stairs. By the time she’d reached his door, it was already closed. Just like that, her chance had gone.

She’d told herself she could just catch him the next day, but either his schedule had gotten busier or he was avoiding her, as she’d scarcely seen him since. Now here she was, sick and miserable and alone. Gods, she’d even kicked her best friend out. What had she been thinking?

With another sigh, she laid her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. Maybe she could sleep through a little bit of the nightmare her life had become, and when she woke up again she would be able to finally figure out how to talk to her godsdamned roommate.

A gentle knocking on her door interrupted her just as she was about to finally tumble into sleep, and she growled into the pillow. “Go _away_ , Lysandra.”

The door opened, but the voice that reached her ears was much more welcome. “Lysandra left. She mentioned you weren’t feeling well.”

Aelin sat up, moaning as the room spun around her once more. “Rowan? I thought you were working late tonight.”

“I was. You have no idea what time it is right now, do you?” Oh no, he sounded entirely too amused by that. Had she fallen asleep after all?

She didn’t have the energy to deflect it, though, so she simply nodded and reached once more for her box of tissues. Gods, she could only hope it wasn’t now obscenely late.

He smiled. “It’s late enough that I had time to get home, have a conversation with Lysandra that she seemed far too amused by, and make soup.”

Oh, _gods_. What had Lysandra said?

She must have asked out loud, because he actually laughed. “She said you were being a menace and that you were always like this when you’re sick. She also said to text her when you’re feeling better. Now, are you going to eat this soup or not?”

The smell of warm chicken and herbs finally wafted over to her then, and her stomach growled before she could say anything. Had she eaten at all that day? She couldn’t remember, but if she had it certainly hadn’t smelled as good as this. She could hardly even _smell_ , and it still smelled incredible. Still, something about the question seemed off, and it took her a moment longer than normal to realize what it was. “You’re going to actually let me eat in bed?”

“I’m assuming that I can’t _stop_ you from eating in bed, and that you’ll change your sheets if you ruin them,” he replied.

Well. That was more than fair, she supposed. Rather than reply verbally, she reached for the plastic container he’d brought into her room.

Rowan stepped closer, sitting on the edge of her bed before handing the soup to her. Aelin huffed. “You don’t have to hover to make sure I eat. I’m sure you know I can’t even smell and I still want this.”

“I’m not making sure you eat,” he replied easily. “I’m staying until you’re done because I know you won’t walk that back down to the kitchen until tomorrow at least.”

She frowned. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I’m all the way over here. And I almost never get sick. I think we’re all right.”

“I guess I can’t stop you.” With a shrug, she glanced down at the soup she now held and began to eat.

As she was learning was completely predictable with Rowan, his chicken soup completely lacked noodles. However, she couldn’t bring herself to care, not when there was so much chicken and enough of some kind of noodle-like vegetable that she didn’t really miss the noodles themselves. She couldn’t tell him that, though, so instead she asked, “What are the green bits?”

He chuckled. “Those would be leeks.”

“I don’t think it’s leaking anywhere,” she said with a frown, glaring as he started to laugh.

“Leeks, Aelin. Like giant green onions. Have you really never seen one?”

“I mean, you saw the fridge when you moved in,” she said, defensive.

“That I did, I suppose. Anyway, they’re meant to act a little like the noodles in a chicken noodle soup, but they have more nutrients.”

“Have you ever eaten anything just because it tasted good?” she demanded.

He shrugged. “I try to be mindful of that kind of thing.”

“Well, you look like you haven’t even touched bread in ten years, so.” Oh gods, had she really said that?

It couldn’t be so bad, though, because he was laughing. She managed a smile in return before returning her attention to the soup.

As he had predicted, by the time she finished the portion he had brought with him she was thoroughly exhausted once more. She glanced down at the now empty container and sighed. “If I admit you were right, will you take this when you go?”

“I was going to whether or not you admitted it, but I appreciate that you did.” He gently took the container from her and set it on her bedside table before tucking her into the covers. “Did you need anything else? Water, medicine?”

“You’re hovering like a mother hen. I’m fine, or I will be. It’s just a cold, probably.” Aelin yawned and snuggled into the sheets before smiling at him, hoping she conveyed the picture of someone who was only mildly ill.

“Let me know if you _do_ need anything, okay? About half of this project is work I can do from home just as easily as in the office.” He stood, picking up the empty container before carefully brushing her hair away from her face. “Try to get some sleep.”

Before she could say anything he was turning the light out and quietly closing the door behind himself. Once he was gone, she couldn’t help smiling into the darkness. Perhaps all wasn’t lost, after all.

She would tell him when she felt better.


End file.
